One-Shots
by loveretriever
Summary: Random one-shots. Angelina Johnson-centric. Warning: unexpected/unusual pairings.
1. Unexpected Date

For Alan.

Merry Christmas.

* * *

Angelina Johnson woke early, as usual. The sun was barely rising, faint rays peeking out over the crest of the horizon. Standing by the window in the dorm room she shared with five other girls in her year, Angelina sighed softly. Wistfully, she thought of Christmas and the class-free holidays which were mere days away. Thankfully, today was the weekend, meaning no classes. Groaning softly, she knew she had awoken for no reason. This year, her sixth year at Hogwarts, there was no Quidditch practice as the Triwizard Tournament was taking place.

Unfortunately, Oliver Wood was no longer at Hogwarts. Wood had graduated the previous year - the year Gryffindor finally won the Quidditch Cup.

Sighing again, Angelina changed out of her flimsy night shirt and shorts, her typical sleepwear, and put on a tee, jeans and a jacket. Sticking gloves in her pockets as an afterthought, Angelina pulled on soft socks and silently padded down to the Common Room, boots in hand.

Thankfully, the Fat Lady who guarded the Gryffindor Tower was used to being awake in the early morning hours. Angelina slipped quietly out of Gryffindor Tower and walked through the castle.

Angelina had been asked by several boys to go to the Yule Ball with them. While she, Katie and Alicia hated the Slytherins on the Pitch and admired guys like Cedric Diggory, Angelina was hoping one person would ask her. He happened to be a personal rival and his green robes accentuated his eyes.

Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, Angelina's closest friends, didn't know of Angelina's Christmas wish. It was that private and that taboo.

Katie was going to the Ball with George Weasley as 'just friends', or so they said. Alicia was going with Lee. Angelina was glad Lee hadn't asked her first. Despite his endless flirting, Angelina knew Lee deserved someone better. Someone sweet like Alicia.

Angelina was beautiful and ambitious, adventurous and independent, fierce and temperamental. She wanted a fiery guy who could handle her. Someone who was not Lee Jordan and certainly not Fred Weasley. Although they were best mates, they were just mates. Nothing more, nothing less.

Suddenly, Angelina found herself in the Astronomy Tower. Brought out of her thoughts abruptly by the feel of the cold wind on her face, Angelina walked to the balcony railing and stretched leisurely. She enjoyed the fact that her hair whipped around her face, long straightened locks flying about her body. What she wasn't prepared for was the person who also entered the Tower.

"You!?" a harsh voice shouted, drowned in the wind.

Whirling around, Angelina looked in shock, eyes wide open, at the person who had intruded on her privacy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked meanly, his customary scowl on his face. He crossed his arms to appear more intimidating. More than six feet in height, he already towered over the majority of the school.

She regained her composure and smirked back at him. "Well, I was enjoying the air," she said, loftily, walking towards him. "Until someone interrupted me." Although shorter than him, Angelina struck an imposing figure herself.

"Oh, pray excuse my interference, Johnson," he sneered, "but this is a public area."

"I never said the interruption was unwanted," she teased, flashing him a coy smile.

_Damn, she is pretty_, he thought. _No! I mean, she's so innocent-looking... Damn, she's got me._

Angelina waited for him to say something, enjoying the tormented blush that slowly crept across his face.

"Cat got your tongue?" she purred, moving closer to him.

At this close distance, he could smell her - a pleasant mixture of cinnamon and lavender.

Wanting to say something that would stop his intoxicating thoughts, he snorted and tried to look haughty and disdainful. "You must be confusing me with someone else, Johnson. Who are you meeting up with at this hour?"

"Why so curious, Montague?" she replied, batting her eyelashes at him.

Montague shifted uncomfortably.

Angelina laughed at his reaction.

Getting angry, Montague hissed, "So I can take away points! I'm a Prefect, remember?"

"Oh, and how many points would that be?" Angelina toyed with him, enjoying their morning banter. Both on and off the Pitch, the two argued incessantly.

"Johnson!" Montague warned.

"Ooh, well, let's see then. First up would be Lee. He's an early riser, too. Though he won't really leave the Common Room until seven thirty, he does wake up first. Then, there's Harry. He's a light sleeper."

Montague's fists were clenched in the pockets of his robe. He wasn't liking this list one bit.

"It's always a toss up with the twins. Sometimes George is awake first. Sometimes it's Fred. Either way, you can tell them apart from their eyes and their laugh."

Montague gritted his teeth. "Are you quite done now?" he demanded irritably.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Angelina said brightly. "There's Ron and that idiot McLaggen. Dean, Seamus and Cedric..." Angelina frowned, counting. "Although Cedric's probably sleeping in today."

Montague smacked his hand against his forehead. He did not need to hear that.

"There's Blaise, Warrington and the dunderhead Bole," Angelina continued counting on her fingers.

"WHAT!?" Montague shouted, losing his composure at this unexpected tidbit.

Angelina sneered. "You didn't know? Oh well. Too bad Oliver and Marcus are gone this year."

Montague's jaw dropped.

"Oh, and I can't forget Draco, Adrian and Terrence. Roger and the other Ravenclaws are too snooty, preferring to be holed up in the library. The other Hufflepuffs are now trailing after Cedric, so that counts them out, too." Angelina smiled up at Montague. "So..."

"What sort of damned list is that, Johnson?" Montague fumed, interrupting her count.

"You don't see, do you?" Angelina pouted and turned around, starting to walk away from Montague.

Quickly, Montague reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her movement.

"No more games, Johnson," Montague growled. Jealousy consuming him, he asked, "What about me?"

Angelina looked up into his blue-green eyes and faltered a little, lost in their depths. Recovering her breath, she asked sweetly, "What about you?"

Montague dropped her arm swiftly as though it burned his skin. "Nothing," he grunted, turning away so she wouldn't see his face.

"Fine! Be like that!" Angelina shouted, throwing up her arms. Storming out of the tower, Angelina raced to the lake, hoping everyone was still in bed so they wouldn't see her mad dash. It was Sunday, after all.

Montague paced the tower. Johnson was a mystery. She was pretty and alluring and a damn flirt! Angry at himself for slipping up and blurting out his innermost thoughts, Montague returned to the dungeons.

Angelina enjoyed the lake scene. Furious with herself, she resolved to stop teasing him.

Upon entering the Great Hall for breakfast, that resolve broke down. Flashing Montague a huge, charming smile, Angelina sauntered past the Slytherin table to join the Gryffindors.

Montague noticed her, but tried to ignore her actions. She was a tease, anyway. Montague ground his teeth as he saw her hug her friends. It's not that he liked her, he tried to convince himself. No, he was just mad she was trying to use him.

"Do it, mate," Adrian nudged Montague. "Ask her to the Ball already."

"Ask who?" Montague gasped, shocked by Adrian's forwardness.

Adrian rolled his eyes. "The girl you keep staring at, you prat."

Montague elbowed Adrian back. "I'm not staring. Who are you going with?"

"Right," Adrian smirked. "I'm going with Lisa Turpin."

Montague smiled, not even knowing who Lisa was. "Good for you, mate."

"You should ask her," Adrian continued. "Before someone else does."

Montague thought about what Adrian said. He had a point, except Adrian probably thought it was a Slytherin or Ravenclaw girl. Not Gryffindor's Johnson. Montague frowned. How would he do this?

Sighing, Montague stood outside the Potions classroom. It was his last class before the holidays and he had Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Perfect.

Once inside, Montague managed to grab the seat behind Angelina. She saw him and smirked, giving him a small wave. Montague sneered back. Angelina rolled her eyes and paid attention to Snape's droning voice.

During the lesson, Montague and Angelina worked on their own potions, as were the other students.

Montague finished first and whistled as he walked by her cauldron. Dropping something, he leaned down and whispered, "Watch it!" into her ear.

"Say what?" Angelina asked, startled. She dropped all of her flobberworms into the cauldron as she fumbled to keep a straight face, distracted by Montague's closeness.

"Oops!" Montague feigned apology.

Angelina's cauldron steamed. Turning a purple hue, it boiled and started to spill over.

"Miss Johnson!" Professor Snape hissed. "What are you doing? Evanesco!"

The potion vanished and Professor Snape pushed his way forward. Leaning on her work table, he hissed, "What do you think you are making, Miss Johnson?"

"A Pepper-Up potion variation, Professor," she replied.

"And how many items were you supposed to use?" The silence was tangible.

"Three, sir," she gulped, nervously. Eying Montague quickly, she gave him a murderous look.

Professor Snape sneered, "Detention, Johnson, and fifteen points from Gryffindor."

"Fifteen?" she gasped.

"And another ten for trying to insinuate it was someone else's fault." Professor Snape returned to his desk. "Miss Johnson, you'll stay here. Everyone else may leave." Without looking up, Snape returned to his papers.

The class filed out, leaving Montague, Angelina and Snape.

"Mr. Montague, what are you still doing here?" Professor Snape asked as he stacked his papers neatly. The rolls of parchment flew to their respective compartments at a flick of his wand.

"Well, it was my fault she messed up, sir," Montague explained. "I was hoping to make up for it?"

Snape furrowed his brow. "And you propose what?"

"I'll serve detention with her," he offered, inwardly cringing at his Gryffindor boldness and Hufflepuff sense of duty.

"How noble, Montague. I have to go speak with the other Heads of Houses, but I'm sure you two will be fine." He leered down at Angelina. "No funny business. I will return in two hours."

Professor Snape left and the two of them were alone. It was silent for awhile, neither daring to speak.

"Thank you," Angelina said weakly. "I don't think I could get through another detention with him on my own."

Montague frowned. "What do you mean?" Angelina feared no one.

"He makes me feel...so dirty and useless," she admitted. "Like I don't do anything right." She sighed. "He makes me feel like a failure. I get everything wrong."

Montague was confused. It sounded like Angelina was talking about two different people. "What makes you say that?"

"He doesn't do anything directly, but he'll say something or look at me funny." She shivered. "I don't like it."

Montague wanted to comfort her, but he didn't think a simple, 'There, there', would do it. So he did the next best thing. He hugged her.

Angelina gasped at the contact as she felt his warmth overtake her body. It was comforting and safe.

She smiled and hugged him back.

Montague remembered Adrian's words.

"Who are you going to the Ball with?" he whispered in her ear.

Her head jerked up at his voice. Guiltily, she looked down at the floor. "No one," she admitted, biting her lip. She was so honest with him. More honest than when she was around her own friends.

"Would you go with me?" he asked.

She stared up at him, awed. "You really mean it?"

As an answer, he cradled her body against his chest, picking her up in his arms. "Yes, Johnson, I mean it." He leaned his head on hers as he let her down.

"Okay, then. I'd love to." She stood on tiptoes to kiss him. "I've been waiting for you to ask me."

He was stunned by her forwardness and her admission. He did the only thing his body could think of. He kissed her back.


	2. Detention Part 1

This idea was started in my mind awhile ago. I realize it's OOC and AU, but it's my fic. Go write your own if you don't like.

* * *

Angelina Johnson was a good girl.

She studied hard to pass her classes, she looked after her younger siblings, and she stayed out of trouble. Before Hogwarts, that is. Going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at age eleven turned her world upside-down.

She had befriended the Weasley twins in her first year. And wherever Fred and George were, trouble was sure to be close behind, if not already underway!

Unfortunately, they were often caught by Filch and Snape.

Everyone hated Filch. Dirty, disgusting and ineffective, Filch lived to destroy lives.

Angelina detested Snape for an entirely different reason. Maybe it was his voice - cold and cruel. Maybe it was his eyes - the way they flicked over her body. Maybe it was his sneer - condescending and irritating as hell.

For Angelina, her troubles with Snape started in her first year.

It was during one of their weekly Potions classes. Fred Weasley, being the git he was, (and still is), strolled by her cauldron. Pretending to be looking for ingredients, Fred casually slipped a dungbomb into Angelina's cauldron.

The orange potion simmered, then suddenly boiled, becoming a bubbling, overflowing, red current of liquid.

Screams and shouts were heard as the children fled the classroom. Complete pandamonium and chaos ensued as Severus Snape attempted to restore order.

With a few flourishes of his wand, the potion and destroyed remnants of the classroom disappeared. Silence reigned and no one dared speak for fear of drawing the Potions Master's ire.

"Now, can any of you pathetic excuses for Gryffindors tell me why someone decided to prank their own cauldron?" Snape snarled, walking out into the hallway full of cowering first years.

No one spoke. _Pathetic lot,_ Snape thought, rolling his eyes. "Well, then?" He demanded. The silence stretched on. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for this immature and dangerous prank!"

Snape's hatred of Gryffindor was legendary, getting progressively worse as his anger increased. The disgruntled Gryffindors made no move to argue, terrified of losing more points. Snape was not a person one could reason with under any circumstances, much less over Gryffindor's House Points.

Turning around, Snape returned to his beloved classroom. Upon reaching the doorway, he spun, grinning evilly. "Miss Johnson, please stay behind. Class dismissed!" he barked, as the students scurried away as fast as humanly possible.

Angelina stood in the empty hallway, confused why Snape wanted to talk to her.

"My office. Now," his silky smooth voice floated across the air in a tantalizing whisper. She obeyed his command, following the black-clad figure further into the dungeons.

"Sit," he motioned towards an empty chair. She sat in silence.

"Explain," he demanded.

Angelina did not want to get Fred in trouble, though she had a feeling Snape knew who really was to blame for the cauldron incident.

"Well?" Snape drawled, eyes glinting as he stared at the silent girl. "I'm waiting."

Finally, she said, "I dunno."

"You don't know what? Please be more specific, Miss Johnson."

"I don't know why you want to see me. And I don't know what happened," she said, eyes defiant. She gazed up at the Slytherin Head of House for the first time.

He stared into her chocolate brown eyes as she looked into the depths of his jet black eyes.

Sighing, his shoulders relaxed and he nodded as he sat down in his chair behind his desk. "Yes, I agree, Miss Johnson."

He had read her like an open book - she was not lying. However, he knew that she suspected the Weasley boy. Although she didn't know what had happened, having been the victim of the redhead's prank, Severus Snape couldn't just let her walk away.

"Detention, Miss Johnson. You shall first clean up the mess. Then you shall learn the correct way to brew a Boil Cure potion. Thankfully no one was hurt today. You may go to your next class, now. Be here after dinner tonight at six." Snape sat, eyes fixated on the girl before him.

Hurriedly getting up, Angelina mumbled a soft, "Yes, Professor Snape, sir," before hurrying away for her Charms class.

Fortunately it was a Hufflepuff/Gryffindor lesson and Flitwick was forgiving, knowing Snape's ire towards Gryffindors.

The rest of her day went smoothly. She was able to avoid the Weasleys for the rest of the day, and she even managed to eat a little bit of dinner without throwing up. She then hurried to the dungeons so that she wouldn't be late.

It was eerily silent in the dungeons tonight. Stepping into the classroom, the door shut and locked behind her on its own accord. Startled, she jumped and Severus chuckled. Turning around she saw him standing at the front of the classroom.

"First lesson, Johnson," he barked. "Clean the room. Without magic." He waved his wand and a bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush appeared next to Angelina. With another flourish of his wand, the tables and cauldrons flew to the front of the room and neatly stacked themselves behind the lecture desk.

Angelina sighed and rolled up her sleeves. This was going to be a long night.

She was used to chores, having had to be responsible for the house and her younger siblings at home ever since her mother's death when she was five. She was used to someone, (most often her father), watching her like a hawk for mistakes. She was used to being punished for doing things wrong. This detention would be easy for her.

Snape stood behind her, watching her work. He knew this was wrong. But he was fascinated by her. She didn't protest his treatment. She willingly served her detention with him. It was rare for a student, especially a young student, to be so obedient without complaint. She was so pretty, too. He knew she'd grow up into a beautiful woman with long legs and a curvy figure. He could see her developing already.

He felt himself respond to her body and was embarrassed by that fact. It had been such a long time since he had slept with a woman, he reminded himself.

She was oblivious to his predicament as he had ordered her to keep her head down. For this, he was grateful.

It was getting late and he could see she was tired as her arms hurt when lifting the bucket. She had almost finished the floor.

Gently, he took the bucket from her. She protested vehemently, but he nodded his head knowingly.

"You have served your detention. It is almost nine, Miss Johnson," Snape said softly. The child nodded her head, falling asleep as she stood in front of him.

Angelina fought sleep, but she could not help the fact that her feet were heavy and her body became like jelly. Barely able to support herself, Angelina tried to say, "I can still finish."

With a sweep of his wand the last patch of floor was clean.

"Go to your dorm, Johnson," Snape said harshly. "Your next detention will be tomorrow night at eight."

The girl nodded, but had barely made it to the door before she collapsed, completely exhausted.

Severus sighed and walked over to the girl's prone form. Wrapping her outer robe more securely around her body, Severus picked up the sleeping girl and carried her up to Gryffindor Tower. Thankfully, he met no one in the hallways. If he had, he would have scowled, taken away points and given out more detentions before you could say, "Professor Snape."

As it was, he smiled down at the girl in his arms and gently smoothed the hair away from her face. Cradling her against his chest, having picked her up with one hand on her back and one under her knees, Severus was surprised when the girl turned her face towards his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sighing contentedly, Angelina smiled in her sleep.

Blushing furiously, cheeks reddened beyond his control, Severus smiled down at the little angel in his arms, kissing the top of her head instinctively. Snape got rid of his blush as much as possible as he neared the Head of Gryffindor's rooms. Once he had regained his composure, he knocked on Minerva's door.

_This is going to be embarrassing_, he thought to himself.


	3. Detention Part 2

Because I couldn't leave this story alone. Sequel part 2. Don't like the implications, go write your own fic.

* * *

Angelina Johnson was nervous. She could remember her first detention well. Her last conscious thought had been, "Too tired..."

She had woken up in her dormitory bed, clothed in her typical sleepwear: tank, shorts and blankets to keep her warm. Her robe hung neatly in her closet, along with the rest of her school uniforms. Shrugging and putting the detention with Snape out of her mind, Angelina changed and walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

At the Gryffindor table, Angelina ate little, her mind in turmoil over the events of the previous evening. She wasn't sure what Snape was up to, but there had been something she missed that she wanted to remember. A tawny screech owl broke her concentration. A letter dropped onto her now empty plate as the bird flew away back to the school Owlery.

Angelina opened the letter, curious as to who would write her. It was from Professor McGonagall.

Miss Johnson,

Please see me in my office today at tea time.

Professor McGonagall

It was a simple note without the flourishes and typical embellishments she would have expected. The simplicity frightened her. She ran to the bathroom and threw up from anxiety.

Angelina's classes passed in a blur. She didn't remember taking notes and each lecture ran on into the next one. She would not be able to distinguish between her classes if asked.

Finally, it was tea time. Making her way to McGonagall's office, Angelina breathed heavily. Steadying her shaken nerves, he knocked on the door. The door swung open and Angelina was greeted by a welcoming scene. A fire merrily crackled in the grate and Professor McGonagall had a tea service on her desk.

"Hello, Miss Johnson," Professor McGongall smiled. "Please come in and sit down. Sugar?"

Walking in confused, Angelina sat and nodded her head. "Two, please."

Minerva poured the tea and offered Angelina a variety of biscuits and cookies. Taking a biscuit, Angelina waited for McGonagall to begin. Putting her cup down carefully, Minerva appraised Angelina's appearance. The girl looked well-rested, though anxious and high-strung. Hoping to calm her down, Minerva asked, "How has your adjustment to Hogwarts been so far?"

"Pretty good," Angelina said, noncomittally.

"Have you made many friends?" Angelina hated those questions. "Some, but no one in particular."

Minerva frowned. That wasn't a typical response. "I see. Any troubles so far?"

Angelina nodded her head negatively, not wanting to talk about her detention.

"Professor Snape informed me about your detention last night. I hear you have one tonight as well. How do you feel about them?"

"I need the practice, Professor," Angelina replied, eyes down.

Minerva sipped her tea, mouth in a thin line. "I told Professor Snape not to keep you too long tonight. He agreed and said it might be better if you chose a different work table."

Angelina nodded, not giving away anything.

"I have spoken with Mr. Weasley. He will be serving detention tonight with Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. Would you like to switch detentions with him?" McGonagall gave Angelina her green-eyed piercing stare as the girl looked up in shock.

Angelina shivered. "No, ma'am. I would prefer the dungeons."

Minerva pursed her lips. "Very well, child. Don't overdo things." Slipping a small vial into Angelina's pocket, McGonagall sighed and set her teacup down again. "Isn't it time for your Flying lesson?"

Angelina yelped and leaped up, hastily setting her cup down on the saucer as gently as she could manage. "Thank you for the tea and crumpets, Professor McGonagall," she said, running out to the Quidditch Pitch.

Minerva smiled, laughing as she watched Angelina run outside.

"That went better than expected," a snake-like voice hissed from the corner of the room.

"Yes, though I hope you don't have to carry her back to my rooms tonight," Minerva responded, refilling her cup.

"I will keep that in mind," the male voice replied as he stretched lazily.

"I don't know what you did to make her feel compelled to serve detention. You know who her parents are." It wasn't a reprimand.

"Yes, and I still say she should have been a Slytherin," he teased.

"Nonsense," she replied, heatedly. "She's a Gryffindor, just like her mother."

"And a Slytherin like her father," Snape said, icily. Turning around, he asked carefully, "You know, she wouldn't say it was the Weasel? Even under Legilimency. She either didn't know or didn't want us to know."

Minerva balked at Severus calling one of Molly Weasley's children a weasel, but agreed with his assessment. "Then it's a good thing she doesn't know how we know."

Snape smirked. "You are an evil woman, Minerva."

"You tempt that child too much, Severus," she responded.

Severus shrugged, nabbed a biscuit, and left Minerva's office via the floo.

Minerva drained her cuppa as she watched the Flying lesson from her office window.


	4. Detention Part 3

I felt compelled to write this third part. Warning: the usual. Weird/unusual/unexpected pairing. Don't like, don't read.

* * *

It was evening and Angelina was waiting to go to the dungeons. It was her second, and hopefully last, detention.

She trudged down the stairs to the cold recesses of the castle. She shivered as the chill air hit her skin. How her father had lived down here for seven years was beyond her imagination. If she had been a Slytherin, she didn't know if she would have been able to walk around, let alone go to class.

Upon reaching the classroom, she faltered. She had a faint tugging feeling as though a wisp of memory was reminding herself... But of what? That question would remain unanswered.

Shrugging off her uneasiness, Angelina pushed the Potions classroom door open and entered the spacious cavern.

This time, Snape had set up a slew of ingredients on one work table. A cauldron sat nearby, a fire already lit underneath it.

"Miss Johnnson," Severus greeted coldly.

"Professor Snape," Angelina returned.

"Tonight, you will brew the Boil Cure potion. I will watch and assist when necessary," Snape spoke loftily, as though he would have to do all the work.

Nodding mutely, Angelina walked up to the work table and started following the directions on the blackboard Snape had pre-written just for her.

As she worked, Angelina knew Snape's eyes were on her the whole time. He watched as she carefully cut, measured and ground the potion ingredients on the work table.

An hour later, the correct potion was simmering.

Snape stalked over, surveying her work. Taking an empty vial from his voluminous robes, he collected a sample of her potion for testing.

"Very good, Miss Johnson," Snape said in his emotionless voice. "That is all for tonight."

"Goodnight, Professor Snape, sir," Angelina responded, hearing the dismissal in his voice.

Snape appraised the potion, knowing it was perfect. He had watched her for the past two hours. She was beautiful, with her braided hair and her delicate features. The look of concentration on her face had made him bite back a groan. Her long fingers and thin waist distracted him from several steps of the potion-making process.

He had remained seated so he wouldn't know how much of a horny teenager he had turned into in her presence. He had had several delicious fantasies with an older Angelina. He knew it had to stop, but he couldn't control his dreams. Even with a Dreamless Sleep Potion he woke up calling out her name.

Frowning, Snape knew his thoughts had to stop. He was a double spy and he needed all his concentration to stay alert. Besides, she was just a child!

He knew this added to his list of sins. But as he never expected to see Heaven anyway, he did what he had always done. He wanked off in his office and shrugged off the unethical implications. Ethics had never bothered him before now.

Cleaning himself up, Snape thought deliciously of the next seven years. Maybe he would be able to get through another decade in one piece.

He snorted at that thought. Don't be an optimistic prig, he mentally reprimanded himself. That's not your job.

Sighing, Snape looked at his calendar, ticking off another day he had survived.

He now had his own angel. Maybe he would see a time of peace. Maybe.

For her.


	5. The Johnson Mystery

Angelina was very excited for the Quidditch game. Gryffindor versus Slytherin matches always sparked school-wide rivalries.

Oliver Wood was the Gryffindor captain. Marcus Flint was the Slytherin captain. Wood and Flint were as much rivals as Professors Snape and McGonagall. Many people bet on the outcome of Gryffindor-Slytherin matches. It was one of those legendary phenomenon.

Fred and George, the Gryffindor Beaters, shot nasty looks at the Slytherins. Being overprotective of Chasers Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson herself, the three boys snarled and baited the Slytherins. Scuffles and mini-fights broke out in the hallways and many students were sent to the Hospital Wing in the week leading up to the match.

Angelina, unlike her teammates, didn't think so little of the Slytherins.

They weren't all mean. And they weren't all stupid. Although Flint had to stay an extra year to retake his N.E.W.T.s, and Bole was a true jerk, Montague, Warrington, and Pucey weren't too bad. Bletchley was in that group as well, though he rarely spoke, so Angelina couldn't really count him either way.

True, they were all selfish. But wasn't everyone selfish in some way?

Montague and Warrington had tall, muscular builds. Montague was thin and lanky, while Warrington was stocky and athletic. Both were good-looking. Warrington had the typical athlete's build while Montague was every girl's Romeo - in looks. Warrington had brown eyes and strawberry blond hair cut short. Montague had blue sapphire eyes that glinted playfully in the light and almost black hair that was normally parted off-center.

Adrian was wholly different. Short and lean, he didn't have as much muscle as Montague and Warrington. With more angular features, Pucey often looked anemic.

Warrington was serious and cold. Montague was a gentleman in many ways, having more social charm than most of the other Slytherins. But he was also an infamous womanizer. Adrian was the bad boy type in the group. He often wore leather jackets, he liked motorcycles, and he was always up for some dangerous stunt.

Miles Bletchley was the quiet, solid guy who stood behind his friends. He was thoughtful and often considered many things that he never shared with the others, fearing they would laugh at him. He was broad-shouldered and tall, but not as large as Warrington and Montague. He also had darker skin than the other three boys.

Despite their personal differences, all four shared one thing in common: they all liked Angelina Johnson.

Angelina Johnson was the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Ask anyone, and they'd say Angelina, no doubt about it. Even the four, selfish, stubborn Slytherins placed Angelina before the Slytherin girls. Everyone did.

Katie Bell was a pretty blond, but she was the type of girl who would do anything to please her man. She was submissive and easy - a common slut, to the Slytherins. Alicia Spinnet was the slow-paced, romantic type. A bookworm through and through, Alicia wouldn't give up her virginity before marriage for anyone. Even a date was a big deal for her. Many thought her a lesbian simply because she didn't get around.

The Hufflepuff girls were looked at as Mudblood scum by the Slytherins on principle. The Ravenclaw girls were seen as Mudblood-loving worshippers. Most of the Ravenclaw girls giggled over Roger Davies and Cedric Diggory, with a few going for Oliver Wood. Disgusting choices, to the Slytherins.

Angelina Johnson alone held that spark they loved. She was adventurous and outgoing, willing to take risks and fight for what she believed. She didn't let a guy step all over her, but she submitted when she respected him. She had a fiery temperament, often getting into arguments with friends and rivals alike. She enjoyed arguing and played rough both on and off the Quidditch pitch. She didn't do anything easily and didn't expect others to, either. She was smart and athletic, though her figure was a mix of womanly curves and an athletic build.

Angelina was tall and trim, with long legs that had no rival. She was considered sex on legs by many and often thought of as a tease simply because she rejected many offers for dates. Not that the Slytherins had asked. But those who had asked were very disappointed. No one wanted to say she was a lesbian, but people began to wonder where she would look to in the future.

It was the Monday before the match.

"All right, team!" Oliver called out. "We have the pitch today. Make the most of it."

They took off into formation and practiced for hours. It was slightly chilly in the October air.

Angelina loved the thrill of flying. Dodging bludgers, other players, and showing off her skill, she raced towards the goal posts with the quaffle tucked safely under her arm.

Alicia, Katie and Angelina were perfectly in tune as Fred and George expertly kept the bludgers away. Harry was in form, looking for the snitch. And Oliver was the perfect Keeper.

Several boys watched the practice intently.

"Look at them fly! They're going by their practice book," Flint sniggered.

"Wood's furious about something," Warrington laughed, enjoying the scene.

Montague had eyes only for Angelina. "Oy! What's that clownhead doing?" he yelled in frustration.

"SHH!" the others hissed, making sure they weren't seen.

"Looks like Johnson messed up," Bletchley said quietly. "But it was a good move. She scored on Wood."

"Thats probably why he's fuming," Adrian smirked. "He didn't see it coming."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bletchley said, grinning.

Warrington, being younger than the others, refrained from commenting.

Flint scowled as he saw the Gryffindor team wrapping up their practice, Potter holding the snitch.

"We have to win!" Flint growled.

The others agreed, nodding their heads vigorously.

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, it was quiet for once. Montague, Warrington, Adrian and Bletchley sat together. They had gotten the area to themselves and they were debating what to do.

It was clear that they needed to win this Quidditch game. But if they did win, what would they do next?

"I think we should just ask her out one by one. Then we'll see what she thinks of each date," Bletchley proposed.

Montague snarled, "That's ridiculous!"

"What if she catches on?" Adrian asked.

"I doubt she'll accept. She knows we're on the team. Even though I'm a reserve, she'll suspect something. She's not a fool," Warrington said.

Flint walked into the room at that moment, Blaise Zabini and Bole in tow.

"What are you all doing here?" Flint asked, suspiciously.

"We're getting ready for the game on Saturday," Montague replied nonchalantly.

Flint surveyed the others' faces, then nodded his okay. "Good. We need to win. And I'm gonna ask Angelina when we do."

Flint marched back to his dorm, leaving a shocked room full of Slytherins behind him.

"No way!" Montague slammed his fist on the table.

"No fair!" Warrington snarled.

"Oh well, we'll use him," Bletchley sniggered.

Adrian's eyes lit up. "I doubt Angelina will want him, anyway. I heard her say he was charming in the 'let's be friends' way."

Blaise, wanting to get in on the conversation, said, "Angelina Johnson? She likes the possessive, lean, tall guys."

Silence reigned in the room.

Bole pushed Blaise roughly. "Get out of here!"

Bletchley glared at Bole. "Really, Blaise? I heard she likes 'em feisty, muscular and ready for the chase." Bletchley showed his teeth in a scary grin. The others laughed at Blaise's flushed cheeks.

"I heard she likes her guys with red or blond hair," Warrington said.

"No, mate. She likes 'em tall, dark and handsome," Montague insisted.

"What is this?" Severus Snape walked into the Common Room.

All the Slytherin students stopped talking, feeling extraordinarily foolish.

"Just talking about Quidditch, sir," Bletchley said.

"Ah, well, I heard a commotion. Anyway, good luck on Saturday, boys," Snape said in parting. His black-clad figure retreated towards his own rooms. Pausing before his doorway, Snape turned around. "I heard she likes 'em tall, pale and mysterious." Snape smirked, entering his rooms.

The door closed loudly behind him.


	6. Truth or Dare?

"Graham and Angelina sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Warrington mocked.

"Shut it!" Montague growled, picking at the grass aimlessly. "Prat!" Montague hit Warrington's arm.

"Chill out, will you? Gods, I feel like you're both six again," Adrian complained.

Warrington rubbed his sore arm, but remained silent.

Bletchley glared at them all, book in hand. "Can any of you children be quiet for just one minute?"

Adrian was about to say something, but was stopped by the sight in front of him. Shocked, his mouth hung open in disbelief.

"What's wrong with you?" Warrington asked snidely.

Montague looked up and his mouth dropped open, too.

Warrington was annoyed. "Are you both daft now?" he asked, voice rising in frustration.

Bletchley gave up on his book and rolled his eyes. Warrington was so immature.

That's when he saw her.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her standing in the shallow water of the lake. She must have just dove in because her body was covered in water. It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. It even beat all those pictures in the dirty rag magazine Flint had.

Warrington finally shut up as he, too, saw what they were staring at.

Angelina always went for a swim to relax her muscles. Though lately it was becoming harder and harder to slip away from her friends. She knew it was risky to swim in the lake. That's why she started swimming there.

It was her third year and Kettleburn was teaching Care of Magical Creatures. During one of their practicals they were standing by the lake. Fred and George set off a prank, causing several students, including Angelina, to fall into the lake.

The twins later apologized, but Lee told her she was hot, smiling his appreciation of her water-soaked body. Pushing the stupid boys away in frustration, Angelina ran to her room. Embarrassed and ashamed, Angelina refused to see anyone.

Later, alone with Alicia, the two girls snuck back to the lake, daring each other to jump in - naked. Angelina, being the rash, risky one, stripped first, jumping into the water without fear. A few moments later, a blushing Alicia followed suit.

That day had started a ritual of sorts that turned into a habit for Angelina. At the end of each following year, the two girls snuck down to the lake for a quick swim, celebrating another year gone by.

And now, a couple of years later, here she was, bathing naked in the lake again. Angelina didn't tell Alicia that she had started swimming in the lake more frequently. Although she believed Alicia suspected, neither girl spoke of it, as though to do so would breach a point in their friendship that neither was willing to touch.

The boys watched, fascinated, as Angelina dove back into the water.

They watched her come up for air.

They lost track of time as she finally came out of the water and lay on the bank, exhausted.

Gathering her clothes, she started to head back to the castle.

When she walked into them.

Their eyes were glazed over in daydreams when she came upon them. Startled, they all blushed, trying to regain their composure.

Angelina flushed scarlet, despite her skin tone, and pulled her robes closer around her body.

All were speechless.

Regaining her composure first, Angelina scowled. "Enjoying the day, boys?" she acidly spat.

"Yes, thank you. Lovely day," Bletchley responded, shocking everyone.

"You often down here?" Montague asked, not one to lose out on an opportunity to prod the temperamental Chaser.

"Mind your own business," Angelina hissed.

Montague's eyes raked over her partially concealed body. Settling on her legs, he grinned. "Oh, no worries Johnson. We are."

Angelina ignored his gaze and tried to push past them.

"Not so fast, Johnson," Adrian said, his hand grabbing her wrist. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To my room so I can change," Angelina said, voice soft in warning.

"Let her go," Warrington said, lazily. "Not like we're interested."

"Good, 'cause I wouldn't willingly come near any of you!" Angelina let her temper go. To hell with self-control!

The boys, except Bletchley, laughed.

"Feisty," Montague grinned, licking his lips.

"And hot," Adrian snickered, releasing his firm grip on her hand.

Tearing away, Angelina ran for the castle.

"That wasn't fair," Bletchley complained, when the echo of the castle door slamming behind that angelic figure had finally stopped ringing.

"Well, it's not like she would take us seriously, either," Warrington commented.

"Did you see the way she looked though?" Bletchley could not believe the dunderheads he was sitting with.

"Yeah - she was hotter than ever," Adrian sighed, lost in his own fantasy.

Bletchley cuffed Adrian's head. "I meant, she would have done anything that first moment when she saw us."

"Ow!" Adrian groaned, holding his head.

"What do you mean?" Montague asked, looking at Bletchley suspiciously. "Johnson, do anything? No way. Johnson isn't like that."

Bletchley shrugged, stretched, and got to his feet. "Wanna bet?"

Montague was always up to a challenge. "Sure."

"I'll see you boys later," Bletchley smirked, eyes glowing in the soft twilight.

Angelina ran into the castle, clothes haphazardly thrown on. Clinging to her robe, which she made sure was wrapped securely around her body, Angelina took a few deep breaths. Willing her heart rate to slow down, she sat on a bench in the Entrance Courtyard.

"Okay, relax," she told herself. "It was just some stupid boys - Slytherin boys - and it means nothing. Except I was an idiot to think it would be a good day for a swim."

"No, just a good day for being by the lake," a deep voice broke her train of thought.

Too tired to turn around, Angelina sighed and closed her eyes. "What do you want now?"

"Your company, for a moment," he boldly declared.

"Fine. You got it. I can't seem to move since I'm still getting over the shock." Her voice sounded tired and pathetic to her own ears. She knew she couldn't fool anyone. Not tonight.

"I know," he whispered, leaning down so his mouth was near her ear. His hands rested on her shoulders as he massaged her aching muscles.

She gasped at the warmth from his body, but didn't protest.

He smirked and continued in silence, working his way down her back. He enjoyed her silence - it was something he knew they shared.

"So why are you here?" she asked, not wanting him to think she was a coward.

"Let's just say I want to win a dare." Bletchley didn't want to reveal who he wanted to win one over on.

"Oh, so the big, bad Slytherins got bored?" Angelina mocked.

"You could say that," Bletchley shrugged. "Or, you could say we just can't keep our snake eyes off of a certain lioness."

She stiffened under his hands at that remark. "So you are spying? Why me? If this is about Quidditch, you should have gone for Ron or Alicia. Maybe even Katie. Not me."

"Yes, we know. But this isn't about Quidditch." His voice was patient and soothing, despite the fact that his hands were no still on her hips. Moving his arms, he encircled her waist. "Contrary to popular belief, we don't all focus on Quidditch, you know."

Angelina smirked. "I take it you enjoyed the show."

He realized why he loved her in that comment. "It was deliberate?"

"Well, I knew someone was watching. I didn't expect you, though." She admitted something that was in her heart so easily. Maybe not looking at him helped somehow?

"Who did you expect?" He tensed a little, nervously, arms unconsciously hugging her closer to his body.

She relaxed in his hold, enjoying his possessive feel. Tilting her head, she looked up at him, eyes wide open. "I think you know."

He kissed her. A soft, gentle, chaste kiss.

She kissed him back. Hers was more aggressive, demanding.

He wanted her, but didn't want to show it.

She teased him with her eyes, knowing he wanted her.

"Thank you, Miles," she said coyly. "I had a good evening. See you around."

She left, giving him one last lingering kiss on his cheek.

He stood in the courtyard, dazed.

"No way!" Montague shouted. "Impossible."

Adrian agreed. "Angelina Johnson enjoyed your company?"

Warrington snorted. "Like we care." They all knew it was a lie.

Montague fumed as he gave Bletchley ten galleons. "Fine. But how about this one?"

"Deal." Bletchley hoped he wouldn't lose this time.


	7. Underwater Kissing

For Bella,

Merry Christmas!

* * *

Graham cursed loudly. Why had he gone through with this stupid dare?

Shrugging, he concentrated on his plan. He would get her alone after their Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid wasn't a very good teacher, so no one would notice.

He was firm in his resolve until he saw her. She was beautiful, hair tied back in one long ponytail. Her long legs were exposed, her robe open, revealing a blouse and short skirt underneath. Her clothes clung to her curves perfectly.

He gulped audibly and tried not to look too out of place amongst his fellow Slytherins.

That lesson they learned about unicorns.

Despite all the rumors, the unicorns loved the girls. Alicia and Angelina were loved the most. Even the unicorn foals let the Gryffindor Chasers hold them.

Montague sighed. Heck, he wanted Angelina to hold him like that. He knew the unicorns were in heaven.

After the class, Graham saw his opportunity. Hagrid had dismissed them early so they wouldn't be late, giving them plenty of time to return to the castle. Angelina had stayed behind to help Hagrid get the unicorns back into their pen. Hagrid appreciated the help as it made the task that much easier. Being a male, not to mention half-giant, it was particularly hard for him to make the unicorns return to their pen.

Angelina giggled as the unicorns wouldn't let her leave.

"I have to go to my class," she protested.

Hagrid watched, stupefied. It was amazing. He had never had a class go so well. And the unicorns loved her.

"Professor Hagrid? Hagrid?" Angelina called out. "Hagrid!"

Hagrid broke out of his reverie at her voice. Closing the pen so the unicorns wouldn't escape, he easily leaned over the railing and lifted Angelina out of the unicorns' reach.

His heart thudded a little at the contact with her smooth skin. He was holding an angel. No - he shook his head in frustration. He was holding a student who was late for class.

Gently placing her on the ground, Angelina smiled up at him. He smiled back. No mortal could resist that smile of hers.

"Thanks for letting me help you, again," Angelina said, standing up on her own. "See you tomorrow?"

Hagrid nodded, hoping he wasn't blushing. He wouldn't trust his voice at the moment.

"Bye, then!" Angelina waved, heading back towards the castle.

Graham watched in shock. Fuming at the half-giant in anger, Graham made up his mind to talk to her. Quickly, he followed Angelina.

"So, you and that great oaf, huh?" Graham scoffed.

Angelina scowled. "What do you mean? The unicorns are amazing!"

"Yeah, they love you." Graham spoke softly, but he knew she heard him.

Angelina stopped in her tracks. "What's it to you?" she asked. Her voice held no venom or anger.

Graham stared at her back, unsure how to proceed. She was an angel. Ethereal, almost. She made him believe in something more, while threatening to fade away at the same time. As if it were a dream. She was a fantasy, after all.

Awed, he only managed to say, "You're beautiful, you know?"

She turned around and smiled. "Too many people tell me that, so you must be joking."

"No, I'm serious!" he protested, irked that she didn't believe him.

Her smile faltered. "You really mean it?"

"Yes, of course. How could I not?" he responded, walking closer to her.

Angelina didn't move. "So, what about Quidditch?" she asked, confused.

"None of that matters," he said boldly. He reached out and clasped her hands in his.

"So when you knocked me off my broom..."

"Wasn't supposed to happen. I'm sorry," he kissed her hands. His face was pained, as though that memory haunted him.

"And when I fell into the stands?" Angelina demanded.

"Accident. Flint was trying to stop a bludger deflected by one of the twins. The bludger went for him, knocking you into the stands." He kissed her arms, her shoulders, her neck.

"What about Bletchley and Flint?" she asked quietly, not wanting him to stop kissing her.

"What about them?"

"Have you told them?"

Graham smirked. "They know."

"Oh!" she gasped as he licked her jaw.

Graham grinned. "You gonna be late, or can we finish this later?"

"Oh no! Potions!" Angelina groaned, cursing her bad luck. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him.

It wasn't a chaste kiss. It was a long, sensual kiss. Tongue included.

Surprised, Graham followed her lead.

"Tonight, then?" she asked, eyes wide and innocent.

"I'll walk with you. Hopefully Snape will be nicer today." It was a fool's hope. But then again, at that moment, Graham Montague was idiotically giddy with optimism.

* * *

That night, Graham returned to the Slytherin Common Room happily.

"What's up with you? Did you snog someone?" Warrington teased.

Graham smiled.

"No way!" Adrian cursed.

"You owe me," Graham teased Miles.

Bletchley nodded, disgusted. "Fine, I'll go swim in the lake naked." He sighed resignedly, hoping no one would be out tonight.

"And no cheating. I nabbed some of Snape's veritaserum," Graham said, displaying a vial of clear liquid.

Miles gulped nervously. Getting up, he walked out of the Common Room. Going down to the lake, he made sure no one was looking. He took off his robes and laid them in a neat pile on a nearby tree limb. Gritting his teeth, he jumped into the water, arms wrapped around his bare chest.

It was surprisingly warm, once the initial shock was over. The water was calm and peaceful. Relaxing.

Now he knew why Johnson always came here to relax.

Coming up for air, he was surprised when he heard a splash. Cursing, having left his wand on the grassy bank, Miles hurriedly swam towards the shallow end. He was too far from his clothes, so he settled for rummaging for his wand.

The whatever it was heard him as the movement stopped.

He found his wand and held it up. "Lumos," he whispered. His wand tip lit up the area. "Who are you?" he called out.

"What are you doing here?" a female voice replied.

Miles cursed, recognizing the voice. Saying, "Nox," to end the flood of light, he asked, "What do you think?"

"It's not like you to swim," she said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"I lost a bet," he stated simply, shrugging. He replaced his wand carefully on the bank.

"I see. Is it because of Montague?" she flirted, blinking her eyelashes as she moved closer to him.

Miles became uncomfortable in her presence. "I guess you could say that." He tried to move so there would be more distance between them. With the moon half-covered in cloud, he hoped she wouldn't see him in a state of nature, as it were.

She laughed, guessing his reason for moving. He blushed as she grinned at him.

She moved closer and cornered him. He cursed softly as he felt his back hit the bank.

He looked at her and was mesmerized by her eyes. Golden brown, they were seductive and pretty. He gasped as he felt her press herself against him.

Smirking, she kissed him and he succumbed to her demands.

They were underwater now. They were kissing - kissing underwater. Taking breaks, coming up for air, only to submerge once more.

It was exhilarating for her and the most damned sexy thing in the world for him.

He could not imagine kissing could be so erotic. So special.

And underwater kissing - only Angelina Johnson would do something like that.

Angelina had enjoyed Montague's company, (and the feel of his body against hers), very much. Montague was passionate. Montague was willing. But Graham wanted control, fought for control.

With Bletchley, it was a new feeling, one which thrilled her. She lead, he followed.

She had always wanted to know what it felt like to kiss underwater.

And he enjoyed every moment.


	8. The Matchmaker Theorem

For Sam,

Merry Christmas, dear.

* * *

Bletchley returned to the Slytherin Common Room in such a state that his friends were disturbed to see him. His clothes were ruffled and in dire need of adjustment, his hair and body were soaking wet and his eyes were glazed over.

"Bletchley!" Warrington called, waving his hand back and forth in front of the Keeper's eyes. "OY! Miles!"

"Miles! Wakey, wakey!" Adrian said in a sing-song voice. Normally, this was enough to irritate the stoic Keeper. But now, he didn't even blink.

"Move aside," Montague ordered, pushing his friends away from the daydreaming boy. "Earth to Miles! How's Angelina?"

At her name, Miles snapped back to the present. "So pretty!" he gasped, involuntarily. Looking at his surroundings, he hastily stepped back. "Oh, uh, hey guys. How's it going?" A blush overtook the Keeper's handsome face.

Montague shook his head sadly. "She's really got to you now, huh?"

"You'll never guess what happened!" Miles exclaimed. He was bursting to tell his friends about his earth-shattering experience with one Angelina Johnson.

"Try me."

Bletchley related what happened at the lake. When he finished, there was silence as his three best friends tried to comprehend all he had told them.

The next thing he knew, Montague's fist met his face and he was falling into darkness.

"Why'd you do that?" Warrington fumed.

"He needed it."

"Hey! Just because you're captain, doesn't mean you can go around like that!" Adrian protested.

Blaise Zabini walked into the room at the moment of highest tension. "Has anyone seen my vial of Felix Felicis?"

It was the most anti-climatic thing anyone could say or do in the history of Hogwarts, Montague noted. Later, when he had time to think about the day's events, it was the funniest thing possible. But at the moment, it threw the situation off-kilter.

The three boys looked at each other, confused. Their argument had been broken by the younger boy's appearance. Quickly, they scrambled to regain control of how to form complete sentences.

"Why do you need it?" Montague crossed his arms, scowling. It was the first thing that came to his mind on short notice.

"Because..." Blaise looked around nervously. "It has alcohol in it. Accidentally on purpose, Johnson slipped alcohol into hers, but took my vial instead. Snape didn't notice the change because there were ten of us in detention. So, long story short, I need it back before something bad happens." Blaise fumbled over his words, realizing how foolish he had been to intrude on a high-tension moment. He cursed mentally, knowing he could have enjoyed the show with a butterbeer had he silently sat in the corner as he usually did. He regretted his presence now, but the damage was done. Being a smooth talker, he rolled with it.

Montague hauled Bletchley to his feet and used the Aguamenti spell to dump buckets of water on Miles' head. Bletchley's eyes opened and he gurgled, water spewing from his mouth, signifying he was awake and alert.

"MILES BLETCHLEY!" Montague roared. "Did you use that bottle of Felix Felicis today?"

Miles' face turned sheet white. Shivering, his eyes went wide. He didn't need to talk. His body gave him away to his friends who knew him so well.

Montague knocked his Keeper unconscious. Again.

"That was called for," Warrington approved.

"Sorry, Blaise," Montague apologized. "This bloke is an idiot. We found the vial in the Common Room. I took it to Snape's office, but it looks like he pocketed it when my back was turned."

Blaise shook his head, amused. "Must have been some day," he surmised, grinning. "It's okay, though. I'm sure glad I wasn't the one who drank it."

"I'll get you another, alcohol-free, pristine bottle if you like," Montague offered, not wanting to ask why Blaise of all people would avoid a spiked potion. Most of the younger students would do anything for a bottle of contraband. Although against school rules, Snape turned his back and didn't report them as long as they cleaned up.

"Only if you need the luck," Blaise retorted in a daring fashion unusual for the normally reserved boy. Good night." The younger boy returned to his room without another word. Like Bletchley, Blaise was quiet and rarely spoke more than was necessary. Which was hardly at all.

Montague scowled. Great. Now he had to keep his unconscious, drunk Keeper away from Blaise AND he had to get a new bottle of Felix Felicis without Snape knowing.

Gritting his teeth, Montague rounded on Warrington and Pucey. "You two, keep that idiot," he pointed at Bletchley's passed out form, "away from Snape and Blaise. Make sure he doesn't leave the Common Room. I'll be back with the potion as soon as I can."

Warrington nodded at Pucey. "Come on, let's get him to his bed." The two boys began to drag Bletchley up the stairs to their dormitory.

Montague watched them struggle at first. Bletchley was larger than Pucey and taller than Warrington. Then, as the two seventh years got the hang of it, he saw the three figures retreat into the dorm.

Stretching, Graham prepared himself for a visit to the library. Perfect. His day couldn't get any worse.

The library was quiet at this time of night. Although still open, very few students were sitting at the various tables strewn throughout the rooms. Graham was grateful because it meant that he could wander the stacks in peace.

Finding the section on potions, Graham looked for Felix Felicis. Unsuccessful in his search, Graham tried the Potions textbook section. He remembered Zabini had said something about the potion being made for a class.

Rounding the corner, he bumped into something.

"Ow!" a female voice said softly.

Montague looked down and saw Angelina Johnson biting her lip and rubbing her head in pain.

"I'm sorry," Montague growled, as he recovered himself and moved down the rows.

"It's okay. I should have been more careful," she called after him.

He stopped abruptly and turned around. "Who are you and what have you done with Angelina Johnson?" he demanded fiercely, though he kept his voice to a whisper.

"What are you doing in the library, Graham? It's not like you to study," she teased, smiling knowingly at him.

"That's none of your business, Johnson!" Montague hissed. "And since when am I not allowed into the library?" He was offended that she thought him an idiot. Like Bletchley, he thought, mentally sighing and inwardly rolling his eyes.

"I never called you an idiot." She frowned. "What put you in such a bad mood, anyway?"

Montague ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. Scowling, he turned away from her. He didn't want to talk about Bletchley in front of her.

She held in a sigh and walked towards him. Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he spat coldly, shrugging her off. He continued in the direction of the textbooks.

"Is it about the Felix Felicis?" she asked, taking a stab in the dark.

Montague stopped again. "What do you know?" he demanded, although he knew his threat was empty. She held the upper hand now.

Grinning, she said, "I bet you would love to know."

"Johnson, I'm not willing to play games with you. I'm too tired. Tell me now or let me find the textbook I came here for."

"All right, be no fun," Angelina mock pouted. "But I think you'll find the book you want is here." Angelina displayed the Advanced Potion-Making textbook in her hands.

Graham's eyes opened wide in horror. "There has got to be another copy here somewhere. Please!" he gasped, praying that luck was on his side.

"Nope. Last copy is right here," Angelina smirked, dark eyes dancing with mischief and mirth.

Graham groaned and walked through the small textbook section. So far, she seemed to be correct. Setting his jaw, he gathered up his courage and approached Madam Pince. He was informed the same: the only two copies were already checked out, except the reserve copy. Which was currently in Angelina's possession.

Thanking Madam Pince politely, Graham returned to the stacks only to find Angelina gone.

Slapping his head in defeat, Graham caught sight of a glimmer. Prodding the shelf with his wand, he uncovered a note.

"Meet me in the Astronomy Tower," it read.

Montague growled, crushing the note in his hand. This had better be worth my time, he thought.

Robes swishing around him, Graham climbed the final set of stairs to the tower. Gasping for breath, he caught sight of her.

She was wearing a white tank top and green shorts, robes having been thrown carelessly over the railing. Her long hair streamed behind her.

His breath hitched in his throat as he took in the angelic sight. He had always thought her beautiful, but he had often scrapped that idea. He put it down to rebellious youth and the lack of Slytherin girls in his year. But now he had the proof right in front of his eyes. And, try as he might, he could not look away.

She turned as he approached. Her smile made his heart jump.

"I didn't think you'd come," she said softly, as he closed the distance between them.

"I almost didn't," he admitted, surprising himself.

"So, what changed your mind?"

She was testing him. "Call it curiosity, but I wanted to know what Bletchley meant."

It wasn't what she expected. Looking at him with wide, surprised eyes, she asked, "Bletchley? What does he have to do with anything?"

"But I thought-?" Montague asked, confused. "Hang on," he interrupted himself. "Does that mean Bletchley made it up?"

"Made what up?" Angelina asked, suspicious. "Look, if this is some type of trick, I'm here. Okay? If this is about Quidditch..."

"No, it must be a trick. Hmm..." Montague thought carefully.

Angelina studied his face and decided he looked rather cute with his blue eyes screwed up in concentration. The way he was standing, relaxed and nonchalant, showed off his arm muscles rather nicely. She shook her head fiercely. Not like she cared! She didn't...did she?

"If this is a trick, then I was set up," Montague said slowly. Groaning, realization hit him. "I'm gonna kill Blaise for this."

"Blaise?" Angelina asked. Now this was confusing! "What did he do?"

Montague shook his head. "Sorry to make you think this was about Quidditch. It's not."

Angelina brightened. "Oh, so what was it you were gonna tell me?"

"WHAT!?" Montague yelled, startled. "You got this mixed up. The note said you wanted to tell me something."

"Do you read? It said to meet here."

Montague gasped, fully understanding the intricate plot. "Grr! I am going to kill them all! They obviously either all took Felix Felicis, gave us Felix Felicis, or came up with this stupidity in a fit of drunkenness." Upon reflection, he amended his previous statement. "Or they all just got bored. It seems too complicated for drunks."

"Will you please explain yourself?" Angelina sighed, exasperated. He was running circles around her and she was feeling like she had a migraine from all his guessing. "What is going on?"

"Some of my team members have decided to play a joke on us," Montague explained, patiently. He held up a hand before she could protest. "I have no idea why, so don't ask me. I just figured that out now when you said you didn't know anything. I thought they were acting weird earlier, but I couldn't put my finger on it before now."

"So all this was meaningless?" she fumed.

"Pretty much. Good night, Johnson." Montague turned to leave. His eyebrows shot up and he dashed to the now closed door. "NOOOOOOOO!" he shouted, pulling on the doorknob. Banging on the door, he threw an assortment of curses at the handle. The door didn't budge.

A neat, cursive script appeared on the wooden paneling: "We won't open this door until you figure out how to make it open."

"I'm gonna kill them and serve Snake a la carte tomorrow," Montague swore, pounding on the door with his fist.

Angelina giggled. "That's so immature, but I wonder what it means." She sat down rather sensibly, causing Montague to blush. He thought she was referring to him, not the words.

"So..." Angelina started.

"So." Graham mimicked her and sat down on the cold marble as well. His voice carried a comforting finality that made her feel like nothing in the world, not even this prank, could harm her. He had intended to sound cold, but he couldn't help a smidgen of emotion leaking into his voice.

"What happened before we met in the library? Maybe if we retrace our steps we'll get to the bottom of this." Angelina tried so hard to not look at his gorgeous muscles and his handsome face. They were rather distracting.

Her suggestion sounded like the best and brightest idea in the world. Besides, what else could they do? So Montague let go of his pride and recounted what had taken place in the Slytherin Common Room.

Angelina gasped. "I had a similar experience with Alicia, Katie, Fred and George! Harry walked in and rambled on about something and I ended up in the library!"

Montague frowned. If this meant what he thought it did, then the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams were being unusually friendly. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Angelina's face was scrunched up into the cutest expression he'd ever seen. It melted his heart and it took all his willpower not to kiss her.

"I think our teams are rebelling. Or they cooked up some new trick we don't know about. Is that what you're thinking?" She turned her eyes up to his and was lost in their color.

Graham's eyes were blue-green, the type that changed color based on his mood and the light.

Angelina's words were lost upon him as he took in her moonlight-bathed body. She had a striking figure and many guys had talked of dating her. Although none had been brave enough to ask her, they all dreamed of the day she would accept one of them.

Locking his eyes with her hazel eyes, he moved instinctively closer to her. She responded by inching closer to him.

Their mouths touched and they were lost, swept away in a tidal wave of pent-up emotions begging for release.

Neither heard the lock click open nor their teammates' gasps of delight and, in some cases, horror.

Quietly, the rest of the Slytherin and Gryffindor team members slipped away from their captains' make-out session. All blushed, not realizing their captains were so into each other.

"I say you lot owe us," Fred Weasley declared when they were out of Montague and Angelina's earshot.

"Nuh uh," Adrian pouted. "You owe us!"

"Nope. You said they'd never stay," George pointed out.

"And you said she'd hex him," Blaise coolly stated.

"Well, that's ten galleons for me, Minerva," Snape smirked.

"Fine, Severus! But I really think you owe Horace," Minerva glared, tossing a small pouch at Snape.

"Pay up, lad," Horace teased.

"Very well," Snape grumbled, passing Horace three vials of Felix Felicis.

Minerva stormed back to Gryffindor Tower, angry at the night's events and hoping Gryffindor would flatten Slytherin in the next match.

Horace beamed as he walked back to the dungeons, whistling a merry tune. He would be lucky another day. The vials were safely tucked into his pocket.

Snape fumed as he stalked off to his office. Horace Slughorn ruined everything!

The five boys watched the teachers leave the vicinity.

"So, any of you think we were set up?" Warrington asked when the corridor was silent once more.

Angelina wrapped her arms around Graham's neck. "This is the best setup in the world," she purred happily, running her fingers through his hair.

"I couldn't agree more, Angel. This is heaven," he replied, kissing her again as his hands settled on her waist.


	9. By the Lakeside

I have finally found inspiration for this fourth part of the Detention ficlets. It took so long to come to my brain . *sigh*

May be seen as a continuation or stand-alone; the same goes for the other ficlet drabble chapters here.

* * *

For emerly,

Here's to hoping you've liked at least one of these crazy drabbles xD

Happy New Year!

* * *

Angelina found herself in detention many times in the following years.

Most of the detentions were either Quidditch-related or because of the Weasley twins.

The rest were caused by Slytherins.

Professor Snape took an interest in giving Angelina detentions. He often went to great lengths to see she got detention, even if her peers did not. As the years went by, more and more people caught on to the fact that Snape seemed obsessed.

Even Angelina noticed that he would find any excuse to take House Points from her in order to provoke her. So she learned to keep her mouth shut and her head down.

The rest of her first year had gone fairly well. She had done well in all of her classes, including Potions, and she had stayed out of trouble, more or less. The second year was pretty smooth, as well. She got onto the Quidditch team as one of the three Chasers and she did very well, even though Gryffindor did not win the Quidditch Cup.

It was said that Angelina was one of the best Quidditch players Hogwarts had seen in years. Whether this is true or pure speculation is unknown. But more than the students believed it.

Unknown to Angelina, Minerva McGonagall kept a strict eye on the girl. Although McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, she was very fair and tried her best not to interfere. However, she could not hold back from confronting Severus Snape about his detentions.

"Professor Snape. A word, if you please?" she asked coldly one day in the Staff Room.

Professor Snape stood and bowed, making murmured apologies to Filius Flitwick. Flitwick winked at Minerva behind Severus' back and was a very good chap about it all, a fact Severus found suspect.

As Snape left the room, Minerva ordered, "My office." She strode away quickly, leaving Severus no choice but to follow.

Once Minerva reached her office, she unlocked the door and opened it, stepping inside rapidly. She lit the fire and, raising her wand, a house elf appeared. As ordered, the house elf brought a tea service. Minerva thanked the elf, who smiled and giggled in response. The elf disappeared just as Severus appeared on the doorstep.

"May I enter?" he asked, snapping.

"Someone's in a bad mood," Minerva teased. "Of course. It would be silly for me to invite someone just to close the door in their face. Although, since it is you..."

Minerva made to slam the door shut. Severus swiftly moved inside, his foot catching the bottom of the door, forcing it open.

Minerva laughed. "You know I wouldn't actually do that to you, Severus. We are friends, are we not? Tea?" Minerva crossed to her desk.

Severus stared at the woman clad in tartan and emerald robes.

"Very well." Minerva poured tea for two. "Sugar?"

"Do not treat me like one of your students!" Snape barked.

"You were my student once. You are my former student. But I am just being polite." Minerva raised her eyebrow.

Snape gulped and nodded, sitting down across from her.

"So, are your classes going well?" she asked, taking a sip. "Biscuit?" She offered a green tin.

Snape reluctantly took a horrid abomination to bakeries - a pink, frosted cookie. Eying it suspiciously, Snape replied, "They are going well. Is this an interrogation?"

"Only if you want it to be. Are you enjoying this semester?" Minerva took a ginger snap.

"'Enjoying?'" Snape yelled. "Minerva! You of all people-!"

"Then why are you giving one of my students an exorbitant amount of detentions?" Minerva's eyes glinted.

Snape glared back, undaunted. He squirmed, trying to find an answer. "Who are we talking about?" he stalled.

"You know who I mean. She's come back late to her dorm six days out of seven. Quidditch or detention is the reason why. What I want to know is - why her?"

"Well, she deserved each detention she served." Snape looked at Minerva curiously. "What should it matter to you?"

Minerva slammed her fist on the table. "That is not a good enough answer, Severus! Many other students did not receive detention, yet she did! Answer me honestly: why do you have her come to you in the dungeons so often after class? She matters to me because she is a student - she is one of my students! She is in my charge. I am ultimately responsible for her!"

Snape finished his tea and set the cup on the table. "This matter is none of your business. You may be kindly interfering on behalf of your student. At least, that is what you think you are doing. Rest assured, she and I have an agreement." Politely bowing, Snape stalked out of the office, fuming.

Minerva McGonagall had to go and put her nose in everyone's business, did she? Well, she would find out when enough was enough! He took off, neither knowing nor caring where he went. He was escaping.

Minerva huffed. Severus Snape was in a lot of trouble! And she would make sure he paid for it if he even touched one hair on her student's head!

Severus ran. He ran and ran. Not even looking at where he was, he kept on running.

Thoughts raced wildly through his head. Why did he find her fascinating? Why did he enjoy looking at her? It was mystery even to the great Potions Master himself.

Angry at Minerva, angry at himself, Severus found himself running outside. How did he get here? Wasn't he just inside a moment ago? He was by Hagrid's Hut. The great oaf was a nice half-giant, even if he was a fool. A strong fool who was careless and blind with rage in battle, if pressed. Severus knew he would not want to be on the side opposite Hagrid if it came down to a battle. With or without a wand, Hagrid could easily win against many wizards and even against several werewolves. Severus knew this from experience.

Severus saw that Hagrid wasn't in his house - what a relief! But someone was at the Lake. Hiding in a bush, Severus carefully peeked out from the foliage. He spotted some familiar figures.

Angelina and her friends sat by the lake. It was a glorious day. Angelina and company yelled and laughed until all were finally in the lake.

Severus gaped in astonishment as he watched Angelina have fun with her friends. They had water fights and played jokes on each other. At last, the five of them lay on the bank, collapsing from fatigue.

Angelina was still laughing. "Fred! George!" she gasped. "That was so much fun! Alicia, we have to do this more often!"

Alicia laughed, too. "I dunno, Angelina. But it sure was fun!"

"Sorry, girls, but we have class now. Come on!" George called.

"Let me be a few minutes! I don't have class," Angelina retorted, sticking her tongue out.

"Oh, all right," Fred laughed back. "We have detention. Okay? See you girls later!"

The twins departed while Angelina and Alicia relaxed on the bank.

Severus gazed at the two, his eyes lingering on Angelina's relaxed form. She really was turning into a bit of something. And he knew other students noticed her, too. He didn't even want to think what his Slytherins were up to. He shuddered at the thought of the things he had confiscated in the past month. Good thing Minerva didn't know Legilimency, otherwise he would have a whole different line of interrogation to go through in addition to his own!

Alicia said goodbye to Angelina soon after, claiming she had to go to the library. Angelina rolled her eyes, but let her friend leave. Unlike Alicia, Angelina was all for having fun.

Angelina sighed. She was alone. Again.


	10. Angel

For Tiffaleekins,

Merry belated Christmas!

I hope you get to read this! :3

* * *

Charlie Weasley called the team in and told them to break for the day. They looked good and they would hopefully beat Ravenclaw this time.

Angelina was glad for the break. It had been a long, hard morning practice. They had all been pushed to their limits. She hoped that they would win for Charlie's last year at Hogwarts.

"Good work, Johnson," a soft voice broke her concentration. "I think you'll be okay."

Angelina looked up into her captain's smiling face.

"Thanks, Captain!" she replied. "I think you've got a shot this year."

They joked back and forth before joining the rest of the team in the locker rooms to wash up before dinner.

* * *

It was a running joke that the legendary Charlie Weasley had taken a liking to the youngest team member.

Many people talked about Bill and Charlie Weasley. Bill, the eldest, was tall and lanky - like his father. Handsome and dashing, he had many prospects and was talked about frequently in pureblooded circles, despite his family's Muggle-loving reputation. Charlie was shorter and stockier than his brother - though by no means short. He was an excellent Quidditch player and was scouted on various occasions by several international and national teams.

The strange thing most people commented on was the lack of interest the brothers had, or seemed to have, in dating.

Bill currently worked for Gringotts Bank as a curse-breaker. Single and most definitely an eligible bachelor, he appeared to prefer his lonely lifestyle.

Charlie, for whatever reason, continued to go to the annual dances alone. He would accept offers to dance, though he made none himself. Except, he made it a principal of friendship to dance at least once with the female members of the Qudditch team. As Prefect and, now, Head Boy, he also reserved a dance for the female Prefects and Head Girl out of courtesy.

Although they were jut a year apart, Bill and Charlie did not compete with each other. They were friendly and caring - best mates when together, best friends when apart. They had each other's back no matter what.

Hogwarts' schooling demanded a lot from Charlie his seventh year due to his vast amount of N.E.W.T.s. Even so, he wrote to Bill weekly and the two talked about everything from work to school to prospective careers.

Eventually, they broached the subject about girls.

My dear brother,

You know me well enough to know this does not come from me.

Have you heard from Mum and Dad? What did they say?

-Charlie

The response owl came within two days.

My good brother,

I hope you're doing well.

Melissa is an okay sort.

Mum is getting overly anxious. Dad's held up at the Ministry - but I know you understand this.

How are you doing?

A little Snitch (Fred - or, er, George? Gosh, these twins are hard to tell apart!) said Mum popped the question.

-Bill

Charlie laughed. It had come as a surprise when Percy was born. But to hear of twins! And then of course a younger brother and finally a sister. Charlie had stopped being surprised long ago.

Brother,

I'm sure the little rascals talked! They seem to know everything they shouldn't!

She did interfere - and she wasn't happy.

Haven't heard from Dad. He's always busy, isn't he?

Hope you're surviving. Besides NEWTs and the new Chaser, all's the usual here.

-Charlie

Charlie sat back and surveyed his letter. It was the only way to say anything, really. Bill would understand.

Char,

I see. Good luck to you.

Who is it? Anyone we'd know?

Gringotts is still safe. Your money isn't stolen, I swear.

-Bill

Charlie smiled. It was their little joke that Bill's job was to steal money from vaults if he managed to break the curses laid on them.

Curse Genius,

I bow to your superiority. How did you manage all those NEWTs?

If it weren't for you, I would have dropped some by now. Mum expects me to do just as well.

I am afraid to disappoint.

Her name is Angelina Johnson. She's in the twin's year. She's s great asset to the team.

If Fred and George practiced more and played around less, I know they would make the team, too.

- Charlie

Bill read so much in those few words. They had to be careful when writing. Often, Bill's mail was checked by the goblins. People often sent strange things to Gringotts Bank. And sometimes the brothers swore their owls went to the Burrow first. Molly was an overbearing mother, expecting only the best from her eldest sons. They were to set an example for the younger ones. Thankfully, Arthur was always too busy to be around much. Although Bill and Charlie did miss their dad, with whom they both had a good relationship. Their mum was always a bit off with them, more worried about the younger kids than her oldest sons.

* * *

Gryffindor won the match against Ravenclaw. Charlie had caught the Snitch, placing Gryffindor at 210-50.

On the pitch, the team members were lifted up high. Angelina, being the youngest, was held up by the team and fellow Gryffindors as they all walked back to the castle.

There was a large celebration in the Common Room that night. Butterbeer and music filled the room.

McGonagall for once let them be, probably celebrating herself in her rooms.

Charlie found Angelina sitting against the wall.

"Aren't you gonna join in?" he asked lightly.

She looked up, startled. "Oh, Captain, I didn't see you." She blushed slightly.

"Charlie. My name's Charlie - or Char, if you prefer."

"Angelina," she said, smiling. "Ange is fine."

"Sounds good." He sat down next to her. "Butterbeer?" he offered. "I got two." He showed her his half-drunk bottle.

Unsure, she wavered for a moment. Then, something overtook her and she agreed, taking the untouched bottle.

"Thanks, Char," she said. They raised their bottles in a mock toast before draining them.

"So, how did you enjoy the match?" His speech seemed easy, though he was a bit giddy. He didn't know why it seemed so easy to talk to her.

"It was fun. The Keeper was excellent, but their Beaters brought them down," she replied immediately, eyes alight. "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah, I did. You had some great goals there. You made what? Four goals?" He grinned, causing her to blush again.

"Look at you - nice catch at the end," she retorted weakly.

He was charming as they spoke of classes, teachers, possible careers in the future. They had sat together for so long that they hadn't realized most of the party had broken up.

Angelina looked around in shock. "Where'd everyone go?" she whispered.

"I dunno," he responded in kind. "Why are we whispering?"

"No idea. We better go somewhere else, in case of teachers, you know?" She yawned, sleepily.

Charlie laughed. "I'm Head Boy, remember?"

Angelina froze. "Oh? You aren't mad, are you?"

Charlie frowned. "'Course not. Why would I be?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Goodnight, Captain." She waved slightly and turned to go.

"Wait," he grasped her hand. "Why are you concerned about being in trouble?"

"I've gotten used to it hanging out with Fred and George," she said, evasively. Twisting out of his hold, she smiled at him one last time. "Goodnight, Char. I had a good time."

She left him standing in the Common Room, staring at the place she had been in.

"Goodnight," he said to no one in particular. "Angel."


	11. The Dungeon Troll

I know I have to update my other fics. I've been incredibly busy and rarely online recently. I'm sorry!

I keep having ideas and so in hopes of getting my muse to write updates, I have this meager piece to offer.

Even though Angelina/Montague is my fave pairing, this is more Marcus/Angelina. Because Marcus needs some love and they really are cute together (when Montague's not around!) :) teehee

* * *

For the optimistic cynic,

Thank you for supporting my unrelated writings here from the beginning. If you have stopped reading, I apologize.

I hope this new year brings good things for you.

* * *

It was undoubtedly winter. Snow flew down in small flurries, covering the landscape in a blanket of white. Up in Gryffindor Tower, the seven Quidditch members were still bemoaning their loss. The Gryffindor team had lost to Hufflepuff. It was shameful.

Angelina Johnson could not believe they had lost. Again. All she could think about was that smirking Cedric Diggory. She knew he wasn't really smirking. Cedric was the nicest guy in all of Hogwarts. But he had had the nerve to ask Wood for a rematch. And Wood had refused.

What made it worse was the reaction from the Slytherins. Angelina normally didn't pay them much attention. She was focused on school, Quidditch, her friends, Fred and George's pranks, Lee Jordan. So, yeah, she was one busy girl. She didn't really have time for the Slytherins. Not really.

The day after the match, Angelina had woken up at her normal time. She had changed into her school uniform and arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast at her usual pace. Today was no different from any other day until she entered the Great Hall.

Four figures blocked her way. Sighing, she looked up, eyes blinking from lack of sleep.

"Please, I am not in the mood to deal with you right now. Let me pass," she said, voice weary.

Marcus Flint sneered down at her. He was an imposing figure - large and bulky, his huge muscles showed his strength.

"No," his voice hissed, soft in the room. "'Fraid not today, Johnson. Tell me, since when do you Gryffindorks lose to anyone but us?"

The three Slytherins flanking Flint sniggered.

"Especially to those loser Puffleheads?" Flint jabbed a large, callused hand in the vague direction of the Hufflepuff table.

"Excuse me," Angelina said in a low whisper, trying her best to move around them.

Marcus again blocked her. He towered over her and consequently had to lean down to see eye-to-eye with Angelina. "I think not. Answer me." His voice was commanding and arrogant. What a jerk!

She was becoming angry. She didn't have time for this and they were getting in between her and a morning cup of coffee. "I don't have to do what you say. Let me go, Flint! This is none of your business."

"It is my business," he hissed back, grabbing her wrist painfully.

She grimaced, trying not to squeal from the pain shooting up her arm. Writhing in his hold, she stared up at him. She gaped, staring into his green eyes. Somehow, one of them must be crazy. She must be dreaming! This was not Flint. His hazel-green eyes stared into her chocolate brown eyes with a burning - desire? No, that's impossible!

"Who are you and what have you done to Marcus Flint?" she demanded, forgetting the pain in her arm.

Flint and his teammates laughed, before a coughing sound interrupted them.

"I would be happy to see inter-House cooperation, but I think many of us would like to leave for class," a stern voice said.

The four Slytherins turned to see a frowning McGonagall, a smirking Snape, and a bemused Dumbledore. The Headmaster's blue eyes were twinkling, despite the dark fury and confusion radiating from the other teachers' eyes.

Marcus immediately released Angelina. "Of course, sir," he said, flashing a mock smile at the professors.

The Slytherins quickly departed, leaving Angelina alone. She looked up at the teachers expectantly.

"Enjoy breakfast, my dear," Dumbledore said, patting her shoulder in as unreassuring a way as possible. Smiling pleasantly as he exited the room, he left Angelina staring in awe after him. The man really had no clue!

Snape sneered at her. He had never given her the time of day before, so she didn't expect him to now. She was immune to his barbs at this point, having survived four years already.

But before Snape could go to his beloved office, Dumbledore called him back. Apparently the daft Headmaster had not left them all to their own devices as he had suggested from his previously carefree manner.

"Oh, Professor Snape - before I forget. See me in my office later?" Dumbledore's voice brooked no refusal. Despite the question in his tone, everyone who heard him knew it was an unquestionable order. To disobey would be like telling Voldemort to go murder a Muggle himself. Perish the thought.

Snape nodded curtly, then departed with a last look thrown over his shoulder at Angelina.

Angelina shivered. The man had always given her the creeps. For some reason, she had always imagined him as a vampire when he wasn't teaching. Maybe it was his extra pale skin, or the way his robes billowed about, accentuating his incredibly thin body. Whatever was going on, she forgot about McGonagall's presence. Opening her mouth, about to say something, she was beaten to it.

"No worries, Miss Johnson. I will excuse you this time. Please have breakfast." McGonagall's tone was brisk and to the point, yet she had a motherly smile as she beamed down at Angelina. McGonagall left for the class Angelina was supposed to be in. That woman was always on time, reminding Angelina of Hermione Granger.

What a weird day this was turning out to be! Angelina pinched herself hard. Nope, she was certainly awake and her arm hurt more than ever. Shrugging, Angelina got on with her day.

After grabbing a quick breakfast, Angelina hurried off to class.

The day progressed and she was able to avoid all altercations of any nature. Until dinner.

She was once more in the Great Hall. This time, she was able to get past the entrance. Careful to walk along the Ravenclaw side, Angelina was just about to sit down at the Gryffindor table when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Not so fast, Johnson," a snide vioce said.

Turning around, Angelina saw Marcus Flint.

"Flint. To what do I owe this appearance?" Her voice held neither pleasure nor venom. She held his gaze, although she wished she could see who the Slytherin behind him was. She just saw him out of the corner of her eye for a moment, before he disappeared behind Marcus' impressive bulk once more. Typical of Slytherins!

Marcus smiled at her, a scary sight. "Yes, you should be happy to be in my presence," he said.

Angelina recoiled slightly, appalled by his appearance. "Your ego is so big, Flint, I could hit it with a beater's bat. No wonder you don't have anyone."

It wasn't that Flint was ugly. But he certainly was no Prince Charming by any stretch of her imagination. Angelina's eyes wandered, trying to get a sight of the other Slytherin. He seemed familiar. But she couldn't see his face clearly.

Marcus frowned at her. "Watch it, Johnson! I don't think anyone would want you - being how you are."

Angelina's eyes flashed in anger. Not many people were racist, but she had been at the end of many pointed remarks ever since she was old enough to recognize it for what it was.

"How dare you? Never insult anyone that way! That is more than just below the belt." She threw her words at him, blinded with anger. It had been many years since someone had last commented on her race to her face. Just because of her darker skin color, some people treated her differently. It's not that she was used to it - no, she would never get used to it. It was an appalling idea, that color of skin made someone better. She hated it and always would fight it.

Marcus sneered. "And you would know?"

He secretly enjoyed her feisty nature, though he hadn't meant anything against her race at all. In fact, his comment had been aimed at her argumentative disposition. Hell, her dark skin made her even more alluring and beautiful. As much as he found Alicia and Katie attractive, Flint found Angelina to be divinely beautiful. All because of her dark skin, her long, wavy hair, and her sexy chocolate eyes. Her temperament was alluring and impressive. She was strong and independent. Although Flint was a traditionalist, he admired her all the more for it.

"About fighting dirty? Yes, I know how to hit below the belt. But that doesn't mean you can get away with that type of comment!" Angelina replied. Her voice was a bit teasing, now, despite her anger. She always admitted to liking a fight, though she didn't go out of her way to look for one.

Marcus gulped, not used to this side of Angelina. "I didn't mean it like that." He frowned, unsure of what to do. From her expression, he realized he had to cover up quickly. "And why would you do that? You're a noble Gryffindork."

He was baiting her. She knew that. But she also had heard the softness in his voice that meant he didn't mean the words to be hurtful.

"Flint, you paint me way too innocently," Angelina replied, blinking her eyes in a coy fashion.

Angelina wasn't aware of the effect she was having on Marcus Flint. She was forgetting herself, getting caught up in their banter. She wasn't trying to flirt with the dungeon troll, as Harry often called Flint. But she was trying to figure out why Flint was acting this way with her. If she had a been a Slytherin, it would make sense. But she was a Gryffindor. And he was the enemy's captain.

Marcus was becoming a bit uncomfortable in her presence. "Why don't we continue this talk later?" he offered, shifting his weight from one leg to another. His eyes darted around, quickly glancing at his fellow Slytherins and then back at her.

"Oh, you want to meet again?" Angelina asked, taking a step closer to Marcus.

Angelina did not fail to notice that the Slytherin standing behind Flint reached out his hand, mouth open as if he were going to speak. Her eyes briefly flicked to his face. His name was Montague and he was in her year. Tall and muscular, he wasn't as large as Flint. In fact, Montague was many things Flint was not. Montague was handsome, with a nicer reputation. He had blue eyes that were soft and often dancing with a hidden glee known only to himself. In class, she often wondered what he thought about because he always seemed thoughtful and introspective. He had a nice smile, too. For a Slytherin.

Although Montague had knocked Angelina off her broom on several occasions and had sent her to the Hospital Wing the most after many a game of Quidditch, it was never personal. Montague was a gentleman outside of Houses and Quidditch. He was smart and dashing. But it wasn't as though she liked him. That's just who he was.

And Flint was so unlike Montague. Angelina sighed. Why couldn't it have been Montague who was talking to her? At least his conversations had always been polite and somewhat pleasant, as long as he didn't speak with his haughty, icy tones. And as long as they talked of anything but Quidditch. Montague didn't care about House Points.

Marcus stepped back slightly from the coquettish Angelina and looked around. Eyes wide, Marcus stammered, "I have to finish an essay," before running off. Montague shot Angelina a curious look, but left without a word. She hadn't expected anything else.

Angelina snickered at Marcus, though a part of her wished Montague hadn't fled as well. Alicia and Katie walked over to her just then before she could seriously pine over a Slytherin.

"What was that all about?" Alicia asked, disturbed to see Angelina gloating over a scared Marcus Flint.

"Was that who I thought it was?" Katie asked, peering after Flint's retreating back.

"That was Marcus Flint. Don't even ask," Angelina said quickly, holding up her hands. "I have no idea what happened."

Alicia and Katie eyed Angelina carefully. The two girls looked up at Marcus Flint and the Slytherins, then at each other. Nodding in agreement, they settled on the bench and pulled Angelina down to sit with them.

"So? Dish," Alicia ordered, filling her cup with water.

"What did he say?" Katie asked, hoping a direct question would help her friend spill the exact events.

Angelina wasn't quite sure where to begin. "Well, I suppose it all started this morning..." She launched into her short tale, only focusing on the interactions with Marcus and the teachers. Angelina knew better than to let gossips like Alicia and Katie in on her deepest, darkest secrets and innermost thoughts!

"No way!" Katie exclaimed, after hearing Angelina's tale.

"You have got to be kidding me," Alicia groaned. More slytherin drama was exactly what they all did not need at the moment.

"Great. So what are you going to do?" Katie asked, excited. She was a year younger than Alicia and Angelina, and so she often missed out on a lot of the 'fun', as she called it.

"Who else was with him this morning? Merlin's ratty trousers, do you think they were spying?" Alicia whispered. She had just finished the most romantic novel about a man who was wanted by the law, but did all he could to protect the woman he loved while on the run.

Angelina eyed her friends as though they were crazy. "I dunno and I don't care. I have to work on my Transfiguration essay. See you two later!" Angelina practically fled before her friends could question her further.

Alicia looked at Katie, astounded. "What was that all about?" she asked, when Angelina was out of earshot.

"Beats me," Katie replied, helping herself to some ice cream. "Maybe it's a crush?"

Alicia spat out her pumpkin juice. "No way! A Slytherin?"

Katie shrugged. "It could be worse."

"How so?" Alicia's eyebrows were raised and she unconsciously touched her wand, fingers itching to draw it out.

"Blackmail." Katie's voice was a whisper, but Alicia heard it loud and clear.

They gave each other conspiratorial looks. Whatever it was, Angelina wasn't talking about it.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Alicia asked, giggling slightly.

"I think so. Are you thinking it's spy time?" Katie whispered back, glancing around in an overexaggerated manner.

"Junior Detective Katie, I think you're right!" Alicia clinked her glass with Katie's.

Katie laughed and followed Alicia out of the Great Hall.


	12. Beginnings

A prompt I found online from a masterlist of prompts. Sorry I can't remember where I found it.

I am trying to get back into writing. I know this pairing doesn't get much attention, but I still think they are cute together. Then again, Angelina is one of my favorite student characters to write about.

Let me know if you think I should keep these one-shots together or separate. I'm debating whether I should split them up or not to have more stories in their proper pairing placements here on FF.

* * *

For Aria Mirage,

Because you have followed and supported my work, whether you knew it or not.

Thank you so much, dear. It is greatly appreciated.

I can only say I am sorry I have been so slow to update.

Life is hectic, but I know that is no excuse. I hope you enjoy this Slyth/Gryff pairing.

* * *

Prompt: Beginnings

Pairing: Adrian/Angelina

Word Count: 1680 words

* * *

A little girl was lying in the grass, plucking at the flowers around her. She wove them into rings that eventually became long enough to be called bracelets. Gaily she smiled up at the sun as her fingers worked on their own. A slight breeze passed through the clearing and she laughed, enjoying the summer day.

As the hours passed, the little girl knew she would have to leave the beautiful meadow. Sighing, Angelina stood up and brushed off her dress. She waved her head back and forth to get all the dirt and grass out of her multitude of braids. Happy that she looked at least a tad bit presentable, (or so she hoped), the lanky girl headed back to the house that stood at the top of the hill. She had to look good, or else she'd get a beating. It was bad enough her long arms and legs made her look like a clumsy fool who couldn't walk straight.

Adrian Pucey was not happy. His parents were having dinner at a house he had never been to before. And to make matters worse, he had to spend time with a girl! And not just any girl. A dark-skinned girl who wore dresses and skirts. A girl who giggled and laughed and played with flowers. She was _that_ type of girl. And she was decorating him with glitter.

* * *

Adrian had to force a smile as he remembered the day he first met Angelina Johnson. Ever since then, he could always recall her smile. The slight lilt in her voice when she was thinking hard about something. The glint in her eyes when she was angry. She was one of the few girls he knew who was still pretty when she was mad at someone.

He would never forget the moment he first heard her laugh. How their friendship, as awkward as it was, had formed from the first echo of her musical tone. He loved her laugh. She was embarrassed by her own voice. But he loved just about everything about her. If only she could see that.

Adrian was sad when his family had moved away from that quaint house on the hill that fit her so perfectly. He missed her smell - honeysuckle, an ocean breeze and something that might possibly have been dirt - and the feel of her smooth skin against his. He missed her warmth and the light in her heart. She was so innocent and naive. Carefree. She was everything he was not.

She was something he should not touch. Too good for the likes of him. He was always afraid of dirtying her. Of corrupting her goodness. He was sure she wasn't even aware of how good she was. Compared to many people, she was as pure as the virgin goddess Artemis. To him, Angelina was his goddess. He knew no one could compare to her at any level. He also knew he didn't deserve her. She was out of his league.

Plain and simple, he loved her. He hoped she would never find out.

* * *

Angelina sighed as she sat on the Hogwarts Express. She was alone in her own compartment. No one else had wanted to sit with her. Those who had half-full compartments had turned their noses up at her, deliberately indicating that they had no wish to be around her or to even include her. Dejected, she had found a seat near the back of the train.

She recalled the summer spent with a boy named Adrian. He had been so nice and his sparkling green eyes were so beautiful. He was a gentleman in many ways, although he also had a mischievous side she loved.

How they met, how they started off, would always be ingrained in her mind.

Their beginning started with a joke. And then it turned into a laugh. A smile. And finally, a handshake. Their fingers entwined, she had looked into his eyes and she knew she was lost then. His green eyes were flecked with gold. As soon as she saw them, she was falling. She couldn't do anything but smile back at him as she became lost in the pool of green-gold beauty.

There were so many signs, but she knew in that instance. Whether he had meant to or not, their locked gazes had started something that went out of their control. They had ignited a fire that, once it got going, would not let them sleep.

She loved him. That's what all the turmoil came down to. She loved him with all her heart. And she missed him dearly when he moved away.

* * *

He walked along the corridor, looking for a place to sit. Finally, towards the end of the train, he stumbled upon a compartment that looked empty. He entered silently and put his trunk away with slow, deliberate movements. Turning around, he jumped in horror as he saw someone was already occupying the compartment he had chosen.

Alarmed, he poked the body of a girl and whispered, "Hello?" into her ear.

"Mmhm?" the girl faintly replied.

He poked her again. When she didn't respond, he shook her shoulders. He was scared because he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Go 'way, Len! Lemme sleep!" she mumbled incoherently.

Adrian felt her cheek with the back of his hand and then checked her pulse. She was clearly alive. He frowned as he stared down at her, unsure of what to do next. Logically, he should leave. Pretend he saw nothing. But something about her was familiar.

"Lei! Fine! I'm up!" she yelled. Unexpectedly, she swung her legs down off the bench so fiercely that she startled him. Adrian had to jump backwards to avoid being hit. He stared at her in shock.

She glared up at him and then gasped. "You?! What are you doing here?"

He blushed, realizing who it was. "I, um, I was looking for a place to sit. Everywhere else is full." His voice sounded like a lame excuse even to his own ears.

She eyed him warily, but was too preoccupied to really listen to him. "Right," she said, unconvinced.

He held out his hand in a friendly manner. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Adrian Pucey."

"I remember you. I'm Angelina. Angelina Johnson," she replied, giggling as she shook his hand. Gazing up at him, she had to crane her neck to see his eyes. "Are you going to sit down?"

He noted that her voice was polite and oddly distant. But he nodded stiffly and sat as commanded. True to his breeding, he acted the perfect gentleman. He was reticent and charming without doing much beyond not antagonizing her.

"I remember the first day we met," she said, as if they were talking over tea.

He rolled his eyes, nodding agreement. She was a talker. Great. He would be bored to tears.

"I didn't know you were going to Hogwarts. What House are you going to be in?"

"Slytherin." It was an automatic response. He hoped she would stop talking soon so he wouldn't have to shift uncomfortably as he tried to evade her questions.

"Oh. I hope to get Slytherin, too. But my father was a Hufflepuff." She looked down at the ground.

"Mine were both Slytherin," the boy boasted. "They'll be furious if I'm not a Slytherin, too." He didn't know why he trusted her all of a sudden. She just seemed to be the type of person he could trust easily. He cursed himself for his own foolishness, but he couldn't take the words back now.

"I see." She was quiet for a few moments. "I hope to play on the Quidditch team. I love Quidditch!" Her eyes brightened a little, shining in the light. She had forgotten the lapse of silence, blinded by her love for Quidditch.

Adrian's ears perked up a little. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. "Really?" he asked, excitement leaking into his voice. "Who's your favorite team?"

They spoke for hours about Quidditch. Teams, positions, players. Angelina loved the Bulgarian team, although Adrian liked the Irish. They both wanted to play Chaser and preferred pumpkin juice to pumpkin pasties. They talked for so long, they failed to notice the sun was starting to set.

"Want to be friends?" Adrian asked as their laughter died down.

"Yes, I think so. It has been awhile. But, just like last time with the daisies and the glitter, I quite enjoyed myself." Angelina's smile was satisfied and contented. "I think we could be friends."

Her manner turned a bit teasing, and Adrian smiled in spite of himself. He look into her eyes and was lost in their chocolate pools. "I enjoyed today as well, Angel."

No one had ever called her that before. She stared at him, wide-eyed. And then she smiled. Laughter broke from her lips as she hugged him.

"I hope this year is a whole ton of new beginnings. I can tell we will be great friends," she said into his shoulder. She inhaled his scent and loved how it smelled. He smelled of spices and lavender and something she could not place - it smelled so good she tucked her nose against his shirt.

Despite his usual misgivings about people touching him, Adrian pulled Angelina closer to him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I know this is the start of our great beginning, Angel. We'll have one big adventure. I can tell," he promised her.

She smirked and looked up at him, her manner turning from honest to playful. "I sure hope so, Adrian."

He smiled and kissed her nose. The way she said his name was so beautiful. It made him feel special.

She sighed and laid her head back down on his chest. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

Adrian agreed as she fell asleep in his arms.


	13. Middles

I know that this has been done before - the first year for the twins and company. But this is my take. Write your own or read someone else's for variation.

I found the prompt list but I have no idea where it came from. I just have the prompts (it was saved in a document on my computer.) So sorry - I will try harder to find out where they came from.

* * *

Prompt: Middles

Pairing: None (well, implied if you like. But this is more of a friendship one-shot.)

Word Count: 2196

Notes: This can be seen as a continuation of Beginnings. But like the others, they are all stand-alones, too.

* * *

Angelina was upset to be put into Gryffindor. She had never been a fan of the color red. It didn't help that Adrian had smiled at her from the Slytherin table. Lucky Adrian! Angelina's grumbles were interrupted by the plopping sound as several bodies sat down.

"Ah! Finally!" a girl sighed, sitting across from Angelina. "I'm Alicia. Alicia Spinnet." The girl held out her hand as she grinned at Angelina.

"Angelina Johnson," Angelina replied, shaking Alicia's hand. "What are you grinning about?"

"Don't you think this will be exciting?" Alicia asked, bouncing in her seat.

Angelina raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

"Ooh! I'm super excited to be in Gryffindor. Although I've heard Professor McGonagall is harsh. Strict and utterly fair."

Angelina lost interest in the conversation, but for the girl's sake, tried to not look bored.

"Do you think there will be any nice boys in our year? I hope so. I am really looking forward to Charms class. My older sister Aurora told me that..." Alicia's voice droned on and on nonstop. Angelina wondered if she had ever been that annoying to her older brothers and sisters.

"Oy! Perce! You couldn't save us a seat?" a loud voice called at the opposite end of the table.

"What kind of brother are you?" an identical voice asked.

Angelina turned her head and saw two redhead boys talking to what she assumed to be their older brother. All three boys had the same red hair and the same golden-brown eyes. She watched as the older boy shrugged and said something. The two younger ones sauntered down the hall and sat down near Angelina and Alicia.  
Alicia scooted over and introduced herself to the boys.

Angelina looked back at the Slytherin table and waved to Adrian, who smiled back and winked at her. Angelina smiled happily and hoped that Potions, Transfiguration and either Herbology or History of Magic would be fun. She would miss Adrian and it seemed those would be the only chances she would get to see him in class. According to her older brothers, those were the typical classes composed of mixed Houses.

One of the redhead boys sidled up to Angelina without her noticing. "And who might this fair lady be waving to?" he asked.

Angelina jumped a little, startled. "Um, no one. I mean, my friend."

"And since when does a Gryffindor befriend a Slytherin?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Adrian has always been my friend. We were supposed to be in the same House together. What's it to you?" she said the last part a bit harshly, but her eyes stung from the tears she was trying to hold back.

The boy was shocked at her response. "Now, then! There's no call for that! I didn't mean anything by it, honest. I was just wondering. Charlie and Bill, our oldest brothers, told us about the whole Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry thing. That's all. I was just teasnig. Please don't cry!" the boy almost yelled the last part in desperation.

"Oy! What's this?" Percy Weasley strode over pompously, having seen a commotion at the other end of the table.

"Nothing, Perce," the other twin grumbled.

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" the boy who had been talking to Angelina said. "I didn't mean it!"

Percy glared at the twins. "What did you two do now? Do I need to tell Mum about this?"

"You wouldn't!" the twin sitting next to Alicia gasped in horror.

"Try me!" Percy snapped back.

Angelina laughed. The three boys reminded her of home so much.

"Are you okay? What did my stupid little brothers do now?" the older boy asked, sitting in between Angelina and one of the twins. Percy shot a glare at the twin before looking back to Angelina.

"It's nothing, really. I'm sorry. I just miss my friend. We were hoping to be in the same House, but he's in Slytherin now." Angelina's eyes were a bit teary, but she managed a weak smile up at Percy. "I'm okay, though. Honest. They did nothing."

"Well, if Fred and George bother you anymore, just let me know. I'm Percy Weasley, and our brother Charlie is one of Gryffindor's Prefects." Percy extended his hand and Angelina shook it, gazing up at the tall, lanky redhead. Percy then pointed out who Charlie was and Angelina admired the stocky, broad-shouldered redhead sitting at the far end of the table.

Percy smiled at Angelina and then at Alicia. He glared at the twins before stalking back up to his seat with the other third-years.

"What's gotten into him?" one of the twins asked.

"Dunno. I'm Fred. Fred Weasley," the boy said, mischievously smiling at her.

"I'm George. We're twins." George smiled at Angelina, too.

"I'm Angelina. And this is Alicia," Angelina diverted the twins' attention to Alicia Spinnet, the girl she had just met.  
The twins smiled and shook Alicia's hand.

Angelina hoped she could avoid conversation when dinner started, but her streak of bad luck continued. The twins tried their best to entertain the girls and keep them talking all through dinner. Alicia enjoyed the conversation, although Angelina rarely spoke.

When the dessert courses appeared, a tall black boy with dreadlocks approached the group.

"Hey! Fred, George! So there you are! I've been looking for you. You should've told me you'd be here! I've been sitting up there," he pointed to a spot further up by the teacher's table, "waiting for you."

"Hey Lee!" Fred, (Angelina hoped it was Fred, as he was sitting next to her), waved. "Lee, meet Alicia and Angelina." Fred indicated the two girls.

Lee grinned and smacked George, the twin closest to him, on the back. "You should have told me you got girls!" he said playfully.

George blushed, and Fred grinned. Characteristic contrasts, Angelina noted absentmindedly. Her brothers were like that, too.

Alicia cut in, "So, are you all friends or something?"

"Yeah, I met the twins on the train here," Lee answered. "Say, Angelina, right?" Lee turned to her. Angelina nodded coldly.

"Do you like Quidditch?" Lee's eyes gleamed and Angelina found it hard not to smile.

"Yes! I hope to play on the team." Angelina couldn't help but be excited about Quidditch. It was a hobby that had turned into a passion over the years.

"Great! I love Quidditch, too, though I prefer watching the game. But these two here," Lee pointed to Fred and George, "they like playing, too."

"We play at home, with our brothers," George explained.

"We're Beaters," Fred puffed out his chest proudly. "We always get Beater because there are two of us. Charlie plays Seeker here, but at home he's usually a Chaser. Bill doesn't play much, but when he does he likes Keeper. Ronniekins, -"

"That's our little brother," George interrupted.

"Right," Fred glared at George before continuing. "Ronniekins is either Keeper or Chaser, but he's not as good as Charlie or Bill. We have to force Percy to play with us. He's an okay Chaser, but don't let him know that."

"He'd prefer to be known for books and academics than sports," George commented.

"I dunno why. He's always been a stick in the mud," Fred complained.

George grinned. "It must be all that Prefect nonsense Charlie and Bill got. Perce's wanted to be Minister of Magic ever since Dad told him about it."

"Our father works in the Ministry," Fred explained.

"So, Alicia, you got any brothers or sisters?" Angelina asked, trying to be polite and include Alicia.

Alicia smiled gratefully at Angelina. "No, just three sisters. Two younger and one older."

Angelina grinned back. "Lucky!"

"What? No way!" Alicia grimaced. "They're a nightmare!"

Angelina laughed. "I got three older brothers and one younger sister."

The twins grinned at each other and Fred poked Angelina in the ribs. "You must have a nice family."

Angelina stuck her tongue out at Fred while she rubbed her side. "Yeah, though my older brothers can be quite protective. They love to play Quidditch, too. Lawrence, the oldest, likes Keeper. Sebastian, he's second oldest. He's a Seeker. Built like one, too - short and lanky, all arms and legs. We used to tease him that he'd never grow into his body. Derek plays Beater professionally now." Angelina frowned. "He's the only one who really got off in Quidditch. The other two work for the Ministry in other countries. Lawrence is in France and Sebastian is in Italy."  
Fred, George, Lee and Alicia gaped at Angelina. Not realizing how much she was talking, she looked at her new friends.

"What?" Angelina asked, noticing their expressions.

"You're the sister of Derek?" Alicia gasped.

"Derek - the Beater who plays," Fred started to say.

"For the Irish team?" George finished.

"Do you even know how popular he is?" Lee asked. "He's like the most idolized player in the League!"

Angelina blushed. "I never knew that. Derek never talks about Quidditch at home. I'm not even supposed to play. Since Lawrence left home first, I got his old broom. Dad approves, even though Mum doesn't."

"You are full of surprises," George commented softly.

Angelina looked up and saw he was smiling at her. Unused to so much attention, Angelina looked away and caught Adrian's eye across the hall.

Adrian was not happy. First, he and Angelina were in different Houses. So not fair! Secondly, Adrian had been told by the older students that Slytherins and Gryffindors did not talk to one another. And thirdly, Angelina seemed to have found herself a new group of friends.

Angelina caught Adrian's fierce glance and tried to smile at him. Adrian turned away, refusing to look at her. Hurt, Angelina resolved to try to talk to Adrian before the boy stopped being her friend. Surely whatever this was could be resolved easily, right?

"Why do you keep smiling at that boy?" Fred asked in her ear, eyes following her line of sight.

"He's an old friend of mine. We shared a train compartment coming here." She had no desire to explain Adrian to the Gryffindors. "I wish that we could talk. He's a really good person."

George scoffed. "Everyone knows Slytherins are not good people."

Lee shrugged. "What do you want with him?"

"He's my friend! I've known him for several years. We practically grew up together. Is it that wrong to want to see my friend?"

The boys were a bit startled by Angelina's outburst.

Alicia put her hand on Angelina's. "It's just that, Gryffindors and Slytherins don't mix." She tried to offer an explanation, but that's all that came out of her mouth. For a know-it-all, Alicia's mind seemed particularly blank at this crucial moment.

Angelina looked down at her now-empty plate. "He's my friend. That's all that matters. I never asked to put in Gryffindor, anyway."

"Where did you want to be?" Lee asked, hoping that would diffuse the situation.

"I wanted to be with Adrian, and he wanted Slytherin. I don't know anything about the Houses, though. My mum didn't go to Hogwarts. My dad was in Hufflepuff. He was considered an exception. His family's mostly Ravenclaw. Although Lawrence was a Hufflepuff, too, and Derek was a Ravenclaw. Sebastian didn't go to Hogwarts."

The four Gryffindors looked at Angelina oddly.

"So do you like Gryffindor?" Alicia asked at length when the silence had become oppressive.

"I think you four are nice," Angelina admitted, smiling a little.

"Friends then?" Lee asked.

Angelina, Alicia, Fred and George all nodded. Lee grabbed all of their hands and put then in the center of the table, one on top of the other. Lee swore a promise to be friends forever together and made them all repeat it. Alicia and Angelina giggled as Fred and George rolled their eyes, but they all knew that Lee was right. They were all friends now.

After they were dismissed by Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Angelina tried to find Adrian in the crowd. Unfortunately, the Slytherins lived in the dungeon part of the castle and consequently used a different exit route than the Gryffindors.

Sighing, Angelina followed her four new friends and the Prefect Charlie Weasley to the Gryffindor dorms. Tomorrow, she thought. Yes, tomorrow she would resolve this craziness.

Angelina did her best to not miss home and her family, to not cry about Adrian, and to not think about all the possibilities of things that could go wrong.

Instead, Angelina dreamed about a perfect life in which she and Adrian made the Quidditch team together and were best friends. It was the perfect dream. A dream she knew she would have to wake up from.

Come what may, she would survive Hogwarts. Hopefully with Adrian and her new friends.


	14. Ends

The third and final part (if you want them connected) in the Adrian/Angelina prompts I have so far. I decided to put a twist at the end. (Evil, I know.) Still, I think both couples are possible... ^^

Then again, I do love writing Angelina. Please let me know if you have any requests. And, of course, I hope you enjoy, but flames are good, too. XD hehe

* * *

For missmaygranger,

Because you liked Beginnings.

I hope you enjoyed Middles and now this piece, Ends.

All three can be stand-alones, or they can be read together.

Up to you. I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

Prompt: Ends

Pairing: Angelina/Percy (implied), Angelina/Adrian (one-sided)

Word Count: 2200

Notes: Pairings are implied. You can draw your own conclusions or write your own fic. ^^ I don't own anything except my imaginings with these characters. Feel free to take them and play around with them, too. :)

* * *

It was the end of November. The Yule Ball was just a few weeks away. Rumour had it that most of the third years already had dates.

Adrian sat in the Slytherin Common Room, quietly watching the fire. He wondered who Angelina would show up with. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that any guy with an ounce of sense would ask Angelina. He growled and tried to concentrate on his present problem: how could he get a date to the ball?

"Hello, stranger," a high-pitched voice said.

Adrian looked up, startled. A slight girl with long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes sat down across from him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in that annoying voice of hers.

Adrian tried his best not to flinch, despite the echoes grating on his ears. "Hello, Daphne. I am sitting here, thinking. Is it not obvious?" He could never pass up a chance to tease one of the stupidest girls in his year.

Daphne smiled at him. "So, what are you thinking about?"

Adrian smirked, concealing his disgust for her. "I was thinking about the ball - among other things. Why are you here? Aren't you usually off with that ugly girl and Perkins?"

Daphne shrugged. "It's Parkinson. And the girl you called 'ugly' is Devlin."

Adrian raised his eyebrows, but otherwise remained still, showing he didn't give a damn who they were.

"Do you care who you go to the ball with?" she asked shrewdly, trying to get back on his good side.

Shifting a little so she couldn't see his nervousness, Adrian cleared his throat. "Not particularly. I've heard several rumours going around."

Daphne's ears pricked up at the word 'rumours'. "Oh," she said, drawing out the one syllable in a way that made him want to stop her breath. "And which 'rumours' would you be referring to?"

Adrian grinned, showing his teeth. "I heard them from," he paused, "_reputable_ sources."

"And those would be?" Daphne asked, sitting up straighter in her chair. If Adrian hadn't seen her, he would say she was licking her lips, like a dog fancying a delicious treat.

"Several Slytherins. Fifth years." Adrian gave her the bone, so to speak.

"Ah," Daphne sat back in pleasure, eyes glowing. "Yes, I know what you've heard. Which ones are you concerned about?" she asked, eager to have the dish on Adrian.

"Just one." His tone was emotionless and casual.

Daphne's eyes lit up, turning a darker shade of sapphire blue, if that were possible. "Aha! I knew it: the one about the Gryffindor Quidditch team, right?"

"And why would you assume that?" he snidely asked. His voice was haughty and disdainful as he looked down at her. Being taller gave him that advantage, at least.

"It's the only one you'd find interesting," she replied smugly, also giving away as little as possible.

Adrian nodded. "All right, then, suppose that's true. What do you know?"

"Well, if we're talking about the same rumour," she played along, "it's true."

Adrian glowered, making her giggle.

"Wouldn't you like to know the juicy details?" she teased, trying to gain advantage.

"I bet that you wouldn't know," Adrian grunted, turning the tables on her. She wouldn't turn down a slight or a dare.

Daphne huffed. "Now, is that any way to talk to me, Adrian Pucey?"

Adrian flinched. He hated his full name on her lips. It hurt more than any Quidditch injury.

"Since you've been so nice, I'll tell you," Daphne cooed in her self-conceited way. "Oliver Wood asked that Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater. They're both fifth years - you know her?" Daphne didn't give Adrian time to respond. "Fred and George Weasley are going with the fourth year Hufflepuff twins, Ann and June Clarkson. You know, the ones that are good at Astronomy and Divination? Alicia Spinnet was asked by Cedric Diggory because Cho Chang is a second year and can't go. Spinnet and Diggory are supposedly 'just friends', but it will be amusing to see what the gossip mill will come up with after the ball..." Daphne's voice trailed off. Her eyes were lost in some fantasy about being the center of attention.

Adrian coughed, breaking Daphne's train of thought.

"Oh, sorry!" she squeaked. "Where was I?"

"You were daydreaming about the gossip mill at Hogwarts. You were talking about -"

"Diggory and Spinnet," she glared daggers at him, cutting off his snide comment. "That's all 'the gossip mill at Hogwarts', as you so succinctly put it, knows. According to everyone, Angelina Johnson is going to the ball. With whom - it's anyone's guess." Daphne looked a bit put out. It wasn't like her to not know something.

Adrian pondered this statement and frowned. Why was Angelina always a mystery? She was torturing him with these mind games and it would have to end. Soon, he hoped.

Daphne waved a hand in front of Adrian's face. "Hellooooo!" she yelled, making him jump in fright.

"Merlin's zebra leggings on fire!" Adrian jumped in his seat.

"You spaced out on me," Daphne pouted.

Adrian did his best to beg Daphne's forgiveness. Which, of course, was granted immediately.

"I heard Melinda Cresswell needs a date to the ball. Her boyfriend, Henry Lorraine, refused to take her and they broke up two days ago. I heard her complaining in the girls' lavatory yesterday."

Adrian looked at Daphne shrewdly. He knew this was a test, though he wasn't sure what she knew of Melinda.  
"Do you think she would mind that I'm a third year?" His tone was detached.

Daphne smiled and patted his leg. "Don't you worry! I'm on it."

Adrian shivered as soon as she left. Hopefully this Melinda girl had a pleasant voice!

* * *

Melinda accepted Adrian and they met the day of the ball. She wore a pretty sea foam green dress that accented her blue-green eyes and waist-length red hair. She wore light blue heels that matched the dress well.

Adrian wore fashionable, high quality dress robes that looked dashing on him, despite that he was uncomfortable wearing them. Being the gentleman, he put aside his discomfort and escorted Melinda to the Great Hall.  
Melinda had taken time to straighten her hair, wanting to arrive fashionably late so Henry would see her. They were fashionably late, although by no means the last couple to arrive.

Henry saw Melinda and blanched, feeling slightly sick that she had a date. He watched his girlfriend dance with Adrian for half an hour before he found his opportunity to cut in. Adrian went off to get Melinda a drink, leaving his date on her own. Henry took this chance to approach his girlfriend cordially and, after talking for a few minutes, the two were dancing.

Melinda caught Adrian's eye when he turned around, drink in hand, and winked. It was their signal that she wouldn't leave the hall, but she would be occupied. He was free to do whatever he wanted. One rule of the ball was that all third years had to leave when their older dates did.

Adrian raised the glass in his hand, his signal that he had seen and understood her. Without Melinda on his arm, Adrian was free to look for Angelina.

All of a sudden, the thought hit him. He hadn't seen Angelina make an appearance yet! He panicked, thinking that maybe the rumour mill had been wrong. Looking around, Adrian saw Oliver Wood, that odious, stuck up prick, dancing with a tall girl whose long brown hair had been curled into ringlets. He assumed she was the Ravenclaw Prefect. He saw two redheads - Fred and George - with their blonde twins. Spinning around, he spotted Cedric Diggory. Grimacing, Adrian, clenched his hands. No sign of his dark beauty.

Chugging the drink in his hand, Adrian sat down, disgusted. No sooner had he let out a growl of frustration, he noticed a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head warily, his mouth dropped open, speechless.  
She stood there in the entryway. Long, dark hair straightened so it reached the middle of her back, it was set in waves that enhanced her beauty. She wore a sphagetti strap light purple dress with dancing flats of a slightly darker shade. Her dress was short, reaching just above her knees.

Adrian noticed he wasn't the only one staring at her. Many heads had turned to see who the newcomer was. His hopes were dashed, though, when a figure came up behind her. A redheaded boy with horn-rimmed glasses and secondhand dress robes put his arm around her waist.

Adrian fumed. So that was her date? The stuck up Weasley? He snorted in disgust. Merlin's old, manky boot! Couldn't she have gone with someone of a higher class?

Angelina looked up at Percy Weasley and smiled as he murmured, "Shall we?"

She nodded and placed her arm on his, letting him lead her into the room. Percy turned out to be a rather good dancer, unlike the twins, whose dates seemed ready to murder them for stepping on their toes.

Percy, to Angelina's delight, had studied dancing. Although he was very formal and awkward, he was courteous and quite the gentleman. Angelina knew he had only asked her because Wood was with Penelope, but her ego was satisfied anyway.

"I know you don't really want to be here with me," Angelina said, as they started on their third dance. "But, if you want, you can go dance with the person that you wanted to come here with."

Percy snorted. "You think I asked you here because of that?"

Angelina looked up, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think I asked you because Oliver asked Penelope? If I had wanted to, Penny and I would have come as friends. Besides, she prefers the more athletic type." Percy nodded at Wood, who smiled back.

Angelina didn't notice this exchange, but she felt honoured. "So, are you saying you wanted..."

Percy blushed. "Um, do you want something to drink?"

"What? Um, wait!" Angelina called out, but Percy was retreating, ears and neck as bright red as his hair. She moved to the side of the dance floor as she waited for Percy to return.

"Haha! Couldn't hold on to your date, huh, Johnson?" Adrian smirked, standing behind her.

Angelina turned around, eyes glittering angrily. "What are you doing here?"

"I came with my date," Adrian said nonchalantly.

"Oh, did you get ditched?" Angelina cooed in a spiteful way.

Adrian snarled, "No, of course not. I only came because the girl was crying about having been left dateless. I simply escorted her. She can go off with whomever." He waved his hand carelessly, trying to regain his composure.

Angelina snorted in a very unladylike way. "So, your date ditched you. Typical. My date," she emphasized, "is very kind and such a gentleman. He went to get me a drink."

Adrian didn't like the way Angelina spoke of Percy Weasley. "Really? Well, what's taking him so long?"

"I don't think it's been too long. It's barely been a minute! What is with you?" Angelina stared at him, trying to understand why Adrian seemed - jealous? But that didn't seem right. Was Adrian drunk?

"We shall see. Don't come running to me when he ditches you for that Clearwater girl!" Adrian called, disappearing in the crowd as Percy returned.

"Here you go," Percy said gallantly, handing Angelina a glass. "Are you all right?"

Angelina smiled up at Percy. It wouldn't do to ruin a perfectly good evening. "Oh, yes. Just talking to - someone."

Percy nodded. "I saw it was that Pucey. What's his problem?" Percy tried to act relaxed, though his muscles were tensing underneath his robes.

Angelina shrugged. "I honestly have no idea." And that was the sad truth. She admitted it to herself: after their fallout, Angelina had no idea what went through Adrian's mind now. She missed her old friend, but she couldn't worry about him anymore.

Percy smiled. "Then would you care to dance?"

Angelina smiled back, a full Angelina Johnson smile. Her eyes sparkled and Percy's heart leaped as he brought her back to the dance floor. As he spun her, Percy saw Oliver and Penny sitting down at a table. They both gave him the thumbs up, causing Percy to grin and dance with more fervor.

Fred and George, having been ditched by their dates as well, watched Angelina and Percy, taking bets on when they would break up.

Adrian sat at a back table downing drink after drink. He watched Angelina and Percy, the seemingly perfect couple, with malice and envy, wishing it was his arms wrapped around her waist and his words that made her laugh so easily.

Angelina and Percy.

Dancing.

This was the end.

And she was happy.


	15. Friends

For SweetMya5,

As requested, I shall write 3 parts, this being part 1.

Bill/Angelina. I totally agree there should be more fics for this pairing. :)

Although my OTP is Angelina with a Slytherin, I do quite like Angelina/Bill. It's growing on me.

* * *

Prompt: Friends

Pairing: Angelina/Bill (obviously as friends. More, if you use a microscope.) XD teehee

Word Count: 624

Notes: May or may not be a stand alone. Depends on how you view it.

* * *

Angelina was visiting the twins at the Burrow on the day Charlie came home for a visit. Normally, Charlie's visits were short, occurring two or three times a year.

With everyone home for the summer, the boys decided to have a mock Quidditch scrimmage. Fred and George, as usual, played Beater, one on each team. Charlie and Ron called Keeper.

Conveniently, Percy was in London on Ministry business. Ginny and Molly were shopping in Diagon Alley. And Harry and Hermione were at their respective homes, leaving Angelina as the only Chaser on the field. Looking around, Angelina spotted Bill leaning against a goal post.

"Hey! You wanna be Chaser?" she called out boldly.

Bill gazed up at her face as she sat on her broom. He studied the way her mouth tilted upwards when she smiled and the patterns the light cast in her eyes that gave them their coffee color. After a moment of silence, Bill nodded.

"Sure. I'm in."

They played.

Angelina enjoyed the feel of the wind in her hair, the thrill of flying again, and the joy of having a challenge. All of the boys were larger and stronger than her. But she was fast and had several tricks up her sleeve.

The sun was setting when they landed and declared a tie. They put away the gear and headed towards the house for dinner.

Angelina watched the boys and smiled. Her siblings had all moved out of the house, so it was nice to be back in a large family again. Bill noticed her odd look and hung back, letting his brothers go on ahead.

Lost in thought, Angelina was unaware of her surroundings.

"You okay?" Bill asked gently, walking up to her.

Angelina looked up, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. "Wha-? Oh, yeah. Yeah. I'm good," she said, a bit disjointed.

"All right, then," he replied, not convinced.

"I was thinking of my family and how nice it used to be when we were all together. Like you and Charlie with the twins and Ron. I miss that." She had never admitted that out loud. She didn't know why it was so easy to talk to him.

Bill's expression was grave. He nodded his understanding, but wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do. Should he hug her? Offer words of encouragement? What would Charlie do?

Before Bill could do anything, Angelina quirked a half-smile. "Sorry, me being such a damper. Today was lovely."

Bill smiled back reassuringly, as though he were talking to Percy in a rational manner. "Not at all. Don't worry too much."

Angelina's smile faltered and Bill's mind raced to say something that would save the moment.

"Say, are you hungry? I know the others raced off for dinner. Boys - can't think of anything but food." He laughed at his joke and was relieved when she laughed along with him.

Her laughter was light and airy. It was beautiful in its own way and he marveled at how such a musical sound could come from her voice. Her normal talking voice was much lower-pitched than several of the women Bill knew. Then again, Charlie was the more experienced man.

Angelina held out her hand. "Friends?" she asked.

Bill snapped out of his thoughts abruptly. "What? Oh, um, sure?" He looked at her questioningly.

Angelina laughed gaily. "It's okay. I asked, are we friends?"

Bill slowly reached out and took her hand in his. Her hand was so much smaller and felt so fragile - so delicate. He looked down into her eyes and saw his smile reflected in them.

"Yes, I think we just might be," he replied with a chuckle.


	16. Enemies

For SweetMya5,

This is the second Bill/Angelina one-shot. The pairing is really growing on me now.

I love your request - it has been interesting writing these.

I dunno what you think, but I hope you get to read them.

* * *

Prompt: Enemies

Pairing: Slight Angelina/Bill. Implied Angelina/Fred and Angelina/George that may or may not exist.

Word Count: 865

Notes: This is part 2 of 3 in the Angelina/Bill ficlets. Can be read as a standalone or series if you like.

* * *

Fred Weasley lay on the ground of the Great Hall. Stiff, motionless, with eyes unseeing, Fred looked the perfect dead man. But he couldn't be dead, right? It was just a trick of survival. It must be.

Angelina slowly approached the congregation of redheads and friends. This was a dream. She would wake up soon.

"Angelina!" George gasped, turning around to look at her. "Angelina!" He sobbed, choking on tears that fell freely.

She looked at George, then at the rest of the family. Mrs. Weasley cried as Mr. Weasley held her tightly. Percy held Fred's body, cradling him as though he were the most precious thing in the world. Ron and Ginny held to each other desperately.

Angelina glanced at the oldest Weasley boys and saw Charlie with his arm around Bill. She stared as Bill eyed her curiously, as though daring her to do something.

George threw his arms around Angelina before she could move further. "Why him, Ange? Just last year we were working together. The Yule Ball two years ago..." He whimpered like a hurt animal. "Why?"

Angelina let George cry on her shoulder. She knew it looked absurd since he was taller than her. But it was what he needed and they were friends. She whispered soft nonsense words that appeared to stem the tide of tears. In that moment of comfort, as George's voice quietened to a barely audible murmur, Angelina caught Bill's stare once more and saw hatred and envy.

Bill turned away and stalked over to the bodies of Remus and Tonks before Angelina could catch up to him.

Charlie gazed at Bill before shrugging and comforting Percy instead. Bill had been at school with Tonks. Charlie put it down as affection between classmates.

But Angelina had seen Bill's expression. It hurt and cut her deeper than Fred's death.

The memorial service was beautiful. Touching. Stunning. She was amazed by the story - the full story - of why the war was fought. Why the battle occurred at Hogwarts. She cried freely along with everyone else.

xXx

He refused to see her or meet her gaze. She suspected he intentionally avoided her. Even months later, he didn't acknowledge her presence.

No matter what Angelina did, he refused to talk to her. He didn't write back, not even at Christmas.

Angelina was frustrated. They had all lost Fred. Couldn't he see that? Finally, in a last resort, she asked Charlie why Bill was avoiding her.

"What? I dunno about that. Say, aren't you with George?" Charlie had replied, thoroughly surprised.

Angelina's mouth dropped open in horror. "Since when did anyone say anything about me and George?"

Charlie looked at her for a moment and then broke out into laughter. Angelina glared as Charlie's laughter continued.

"This is so funny! We all thought you and George, well, er, you know. Since you and Fred were so close," Charlie explained between fits of giggles.

"Oh." She was shocked. Sure, George was her friend. But they had been friends ever since their first year at Hogwarts. How could anyone think she would be his girlfriend? Not to mention that she wasn't his type, but that was beyond the point.

xXx

She found him at the Burrow. He was standing on the clearing they had used as a small Quidditch pitch when they were kids.

"Hello," she said shyly.

He didn't look at her or respond.

"Do you often come here?" she asked, hoping she could make him say something.

"What do you want?" His voice was harsh.

Startled, she drew back. "A nice word from you wouldn't hurt," she spat, angry.

"I thought you were supposed to be with George." He was hurt and it showed in his voice at the mention of his brother's name. But he still didn't take his eyes off of the field.

"If you knew, George and I are just friends."

"So that's how you treat everything? Just friends? That's swell. Lead everyone on." He was bitter and it cut her deeply.

"If you had any sense, you'd see. You'd understand." She felt a nagging sensation in her stomach and knew she needed to tell him.

"Well, I don't need you!" His words hit her, knocking the breath from her chest. "I know what your type is."

She was furious. He knew nothing if he couldn't even look at her, much less see that there was nothing going on between her and either of the twins.

"I don't think George would like his girl to be making advances to other people. But I won't tell him - this time."

Before Angelina could say anything, he apparated away. Anger and the bite of his words fueled her. She sent Bill several notes, but heard no response. Finally, she sent him one line:

Friends?

He responded:

Not likely.

Glad to hear at least something, she tried again:

Do you think we could be?

His reply never came, but she got an owl from George.

_What happened between you and Bill? He came into the shop and hit me._


	17. Lovers

For SweetMya5,

I apologize it took me so long to upload this ):

The third Bill/Angelina drabble-fic, as requested ^^ Again, this can be a standalone, or all 3 of these Bill/Angelina fics can be read together. Reader's choice. :)

* * *

Prompt: Lovers

Paring: Bill/Angelina - this one is most definitely AU.

Word Count: 700

* * *

She drank. And drank. Shot after shot, she tried to erase her memories.

The drink burned her, making her scars stand out. But she continued to drink, switching from vodka to gin and eventually to rum.

He watched her from the corner. She was a strange beauty with her dark skin and long, straightened hair. She looked incredibly thin, especially with her tall, elongated frame. Her hollowed cheeks, the bags under her eyes, her dry skin and parched lips, despite all the drink she was consuming, heightened her emaciated appearance.

He admired the celerity with which she drank. It reminded him of a girl from long ago; a girl with honeyed eyes and a beautiful laugh. He scowled into his tankard of ale. That girl would no longer be in his life thanks to his wonderful screw up.

She looked over at him and their eyes met briefly. He took a long drink, never breaking eye contact. She did the same.

Finally, when the pub was getting ready to close, she walked - or rather swayed - over to him, a smile plastered on her face. She was absolutely smashed. He looked grimly on, not wanting to give in to her despite his own drunken state.

She spoke, voice slurred. Her tone was low and the accent was familiar. Her voice had a lilt that gave it an ethereal quality.

"Angelina?" he asked, when he had gathered his courage.

She looked at him, dazed, unsure of what he had said. She tried to get him to repeat his words, but tipped forward unexpectedly. He caught her and she felt her cheeks grow warm. Looking up at him, she gave him a quick peck on the lips. Before he knew what had happened, her eyes had closed and she had fallen asleep.

He sighed, nodded to the barman, and carried the girl to his room at the inn down the road.

He laid her on the bed gently, not wanting to disturb her sleep. After assuring himself that she was well and truly sleeping, he, too, closed his eyes.

Sometime in the night, he awoke to a rustling sound. Startled, he was surprised when she touched him. He flinched slightly, not expecting her to be awake.

"May I?" she asked, breathing into his ear.

He didn't know what she meant, but she gently touched his scars anyway. He felt uneasy, but before he could protest, her lips caressed his skin.

Butterflies - they felt like butterfly wings as they brushed across his scars.

He tipped his head back as her mouth trailed down his skin. Nimble fingers untucked his shirt and he lazily shrugged it off. Her hands continued to float over his body, barely allowing for skin to skin contact.

He groaned as she reached his stomach. Her breath tickled and he placed his hands in her hair. She smiled up at him and allowed him to remove her dress.

Now it was his turn to trace patterns around her scars. He had never seen anyone with skin like hers and scars to match his own.

Intrigued, he kissed her and tasted the sweetness of honey and cinnamon. He stared at her and she smiled at him before claiming his lips with her own.

It was passionate, fierce, competitive and utterly riveting. He felt like the king of the world when he held her close like that. She could not say what it felt like. It just was right. Her dark skin against his pale skin; flaming red hair against her dark locks. His strong, muscular arms wrapped around her thin body gave her a sense of comfort. His warm body promised shelter and protection. She felt at home with him as their bodies tangled together.

In the morning light, she woke up and smiled at him, wrapped in his arms. He opened his eyes to see the most beautiful woman snuggled up against his body. He kissed the top of her head and whispered for her to go back to sleep. She giggled jubilantly, still a bit hung over from the night before, sighed lustily and complied.

He rubbed her arms in a soothing manner before he, too, fell back asleep.

* * *

Note: These prompts came from the Fanfic100 Prompt List on LJ.  
I found out and forgot to add that on so here it is now x.x hehe silly me :P


	18. Declaration of War

For bubblecloudz,

Thank you oh so much you don't even know for supporting me, my work, and for being awesome. :)

I hope you continue to enjoy the weirdness as I finally catch up on my posting. *sigh*

Here's another Montague/Angelina AU fic moment.

* * *

It was easy. Too easy. He pushed her in the corridor. He taunted her about her family. He teased her about her House. Everything he could think of to insult her, he did.

And she just took it. Just stared at him and walked by with not a single retort.

At first, it worried him. She was a fighter. She was easily angered. She stood up for herself and the whiny weaklings she called friends. But as weeks went by, he stopped caring what she would do to him. He pegged her out for more insults and targeted her as bait for his mates to torment.

She took everything silently, hoping they would get bored. But she had no such luck.

Finally, it culminated in a fight outside the library.

She was carrying a fairly large stack of books that she needed for her Charms, Transfiguration and Potions essays.

He saw her and smirked, thinking it would be too easy. He tripped her, causing the books to scatter across the floor.

"Careful, Johnson," he sneered.

She stood up, seething with rage. "Well, it's no thanks to you!" She slapped him across the face, fingernails raking across his skin.

He held his palm against his cheek and noticed the faint drops of blood. He calmly licked his hand and smirked at her, new-found respect in his eyes. "I was wondering when you'd fight back. Nice to see your fiery side, Johnson."

Angelina scowled. "Not like you'd care," she muttered as she went about collecting her books.

"Not so fast, Johnson," he said, stepping on the last book.

"Please move," she growled in frustration.

"No." His voice was stern and his reply simple.

"Move!" She yelled, forgetting her manners. All she wanted in her anger was to push him over.

"Make me," he taunted.

It was a dare. And Angelina Johnson never backed down from a dare.

"Fine!" she yelled, sick and tired of it all. She rammed into him, knocking him into the wall.

He chuckled and rearranged his robes. "Is that all you got?"

She picked up the book, dusted herself off, and primly turned around to walk back to the Great Hall.

"Oh, so you're gonna ignore me again, Johnson?" he called, running after her.

She kept walking at her normal, steady pace, ignoring the look of bewilderment on the students' faces around her. Angelina and her pursuer pushed themselves through the hordes of students separating them from their destinations.

"Oy! Johnson!" the Slytherin yelled over the crowd. He finally reached her and shot out a hand to grab her wrist. Spinning her around, he forced her to look at him. "I'm talking to you!"

Angelina grimaced in pain at the way he was holding her arm. "Let me go!" she growled, gritting her teeth.

"No."

She kicked him and tried to bite his arm. He pushed her back away from him and into the wall.

"Johnson!" he yelled, easily subduing her with his much greater strength.

"Miss Johnson," a silky voice drawled. The two students had completely forgotten everyone around them. Now, they noticed the crowd and the Head of Slytherin approaching.

He dropped her arms as though they burned him and faced his Head of House. Angelina hoped to restore feeling to her limbs, but with her hands full of books, she was unable to relieve the pain. She noticed for the first time that two of the books she had taken out lay on the floor. She could not recall when they had fallen - probably when the vile scum of the earth had spun her around.

"Mr. Montague," Snape looked down at his team's star Chaser. "You may go. I will speak with you later."

Montague nodded curtly and left without a backwards glance. Snape watched him go, then set his malicious eyes on Angelina.

"Miss Johnson, for causing disruptions in the hallway, fighting another student and for damaging school property, that will be fifty points! And detention with me. Tonight!" Snape turned around swiftly, dark robes billowing about him. Every student present, including fellow Slytherins, got out of the fuming professor's path.

As soon as she was able, Angelina collected her books and hurried off to her dorm. Dumping everything down on her bed haphazardly, she started off to the dungeons. Knowing Snape, he'd still find fault with her for something if she didn't hurry! It wasn't fair, but by now Angelina had learned it was best not to argue. Not only was Gryffindor the one House Snape hated the most, but Montague was Snape's star Quidditch player. Whatever she said would hold no value to Snape.

Angelina sighed. How did she ever get into this big mess in the first place?

She started to plan her revenge as she neared the dungeons. At least Snape had only given her one detention so far, leaving her plenty of time to get back at Montague.

She smirked as she walked. Yes, revenge would be sweet indeed.


End file.
